


Fools Rush In

by Shippingtheswann



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 94,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shippingtheswann/pseuds/Shippingtheswann
Summary: Emma Swan has been married since she was five years old. Under the old oak tree, she wed Killian Jones, her neighbor. Then, he moved away, but made one final promise, that one day he would marry her for real. See what happens when he returns to make good on his promise.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks to CSBB for once again organizing an amazing event. I’ve been missing Captain Swan for the past year, and having this has helped so much! Thanks to Lana (@high-seas-swan) and Kaitlyn (@Spartanguard) for their beta help. Go check out Lana’s story when you get a moment as well – it’s amazing! Thanks to Rachel (@Ladyciaramiggles) for the art she has provided which you can find here. As well, thanks to Kris (@sambethe) for betaing and the artwork. I hope you all enjoy this wonderful story!

Here she was again. Sitting at her desk during her planning period, stalking Facebook. She had told herself she wasn’t going to do this again. She had sworn she was done living in the past. But, for Emma Swan, this past week had been a bit too much for her to handle, and she fell back into her old habits.

Monday had started with bad news. She had been told her application to adopt Henry, one of her students and her foster son, wasn’t going to be approved - all because she was a single mom. Tuesday and Wednesday were filled with kids taking a test that she knew they weren’t going to do well on. No matter how she tried to teach them, this unit was just hard. Plus, she hated giving tests - they never really showed what her kids were capable of. Thursday came with nagging from her best friend Mary Margaret about why she wasn’t dating. The whole week just seemed to be endless - and it threw Emma into a depression. 

For months, she had been trying to adopt Henry. She hadn’t gotten any further in the process than where she was six months ago when she had talked to him about making him a permanent part of the family.

For months, years actually, Mary Margaret had bugged Emma about going out on a date with a family friend of hers. And for years, Emma had said no. Yet, once a month, there was Mary Margaret, begging her to go out on a date. 

Emma had had enough. That was probably why she was sitting here now, glued to her computer screen instead of grading the six dozen science tests that her students had taken yesterday. 

The profile opened on her screen was one she had found herself looking at time and time again. Even before Facebook, she would look up this profile on MySpace. She had issues, and she knew it, but Killian Jones was just too good to pass up. 

He was the biggest reason she never went on a date with anyone Mary Margaret tried to set her up with - because he was her husband. In fact, they were just about to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary, too. 

When Emma was five years old, during the fall in her first year of school, under the old oak tree in the back of their elementary school, with changing leaves falling all around them when the wind would whirl, Emma married her best friend. She had grown up with Killian Jones - they started daycare at the same time, each of them three months old. Their mothers were co-workers at the elementary school. They spent holidays together and even vacationed together. Their parents had called them boyfriend and girlfriend since they were little. So of course, they would marry each other - it was written in the stars. 

They had a great honeymoon year - playing together on the playground during recess, going to the beach over summer break, even sneaking into each other’s houses at night when they couldn’t sleep.

Emma had her first kiss under that tree, too. Of course, kids of that age don’t really know anything, but something inside Emma told her it was an important moment and she would remember it the rest of her life. What her body didn’t tell her is that it would haunt her as well. 

She and Killian were joined at the hip. Everyone knew it. So when Killian’s mom said that she was going to be moving the family back to Ireland, Emma thought she would be going with them. Her bags were packed that night – well, packed enough that a six year old can do. She was heartbroken to say the least when the next morning her mom told her they were just going to the airport to say goodbye. Emma sat next to Killian at the gate, her hand in his, tears streaming down her face. Yes, Killian may have been her “husband”, but he was also her best friend. She couldn’t picture life without him. Both her mom and Killian’s tried to console them, reminding them that they could write – since they both learned how that year – and that they would try to visit as much as possible. Emma knew the truth though; nothing would ever be the same. 

She kicked and screamed when they called for boarding to start and she watched Killian walk down the air bridge. She tried to run after him, but her mother held tight and wouldn’t budge. When her sobs finally subsided, her mother led her back out the airport, into a world that was minus Killian. Emma couldn’t describe it at the time, but she knew the world was less bright without Killian Jones in it. 

The next three weeks were the same, at least from what her mom tells her. She doesn’t remember much. Her mom says she sulked around the house, refusing to do anything of interest. She just remembered being sad, wishing she had her best friend to talk to. 

The first letter from him arrived three weeks after he left. Emma still kept it in a box next to her bed. It was paired with pictures of them from their trips, little knick knacks that held sentimental value, and birthday cards from her parents and family members. From time to time, she would pick up that old weathered letter, careful not to tear the fragile paper, and read the sloppy handwriting. The note was short, but filled her heart with glee. 

_ Emma, _

_ I miss you. I wish you were here. It’s cold and I don’t like it. I want to come home, but mom says I can’t. She would miss me too much. She has been sick a lot. Liam’s been crying. Write back soon. _

_ Love, _

_ Killian _

On the back of the paper, he had drawn some pictures. There was a pirate ship – it looked a lot like the pirate ship from the park they played at. There was a dog, which Emma was sure was her own. But Emma’s favorite was a group of stick figures, one with stringy hair and one with short hair, standing together, hands held, with giant smiles on their faces. Emma was positive they were of them, in happier times. 

The letters came and went for about a year. Killian never went into any real detail of what was happening. Emma later realized it was simply because they were both too young to really talk about what was going on in his life. Emma always tried to make Killian feel better in her letters. She told him about her adventures in the first grade: how she got the teacher they hated, how this boy – Neal – was mean to her and tried to steal her lunch, how this pretty girl Ruby joined their class and had crazy hair colors. Yet, each letter she got back was filled with the same sadness. He missed her, he was scared, he missed his home, and more importantly, his letters ended the way they began, with his honest and heartfelt statement, I miss you, Emma.

One day, the letters stopped. Emma normally got her letters from Killian on Friday afternoons when she would race to the mailbox from school, making sure she didn’t spend one minute without his words she didn’t need to. However, about a year after Killian left, there was no Friday letter. She was so worried; she forced her mom to call the post office to make sure they didn’t lose her letter. Her mom tried to calm her down, saying that sometimes things get lost in the mail – that maybe it would be here next week. Emma raced home from school again Monday, desperate to see the letter waiting. She did that each day for the rest of the week, but each day the mailbox was empty. No white envelope with her name scrawled across the front, no news, no Killian. 

She begged her mom and dad to let her call Killian – but they said the call would be too expensive and they were sure Killian’s letters would come soon. She couldn’t tell anyone when it happened, but one day, she stopped looking for the letters, stopped wondering when they would come. Something inside of her clicked, and said she wouldn’t be getting any more letters. 

She did continue to write to him though, for about two months after that fated Friday. In each letter she questioned why she didn’t hear from him. She was surprised at how well she was writing, surprised she was able to convey all she wanted to - writing long letters that said everything she wanted to was hard for a six year old. She asked him if he still missed her. She asked him if he had still planned on keeping his promise to her. 

In one of his letters, the one that Emma keeps in the most pristine condition in her box, he told her that one day, he would return to their little town, and he would make her his real wife. He promised. He said he wouldn’t be like his dad, and they wouldn’t be like that kid’s parents in their kindergarten class that got divorced. He said they would be together forever. 

Emma didn’t really understand what he meant when he sent that letter when she was six. It wasn’t until a few years later, when her mom made an off handed comment, that she finally learned the truth about why Killian Jones and the rest of the Jones clan moved back to Ireland. Brennan Jones, the father of the family, had left them. So, in a desperate attempt to get Brennan back, Alice Jones packed up the family and moved them to her hometown. 

It was a few years later that she found out the conclusion to that sad story. It was right before her sixteenth birthday party, and the family was going through old photos, trying to find ones suitable for the slideshow, that they stumbled upon one of her and Killian on Halloween. Emma smiled down at the picture and tried to be nonchalant about it. She hadn’t told her parents that she still dreamt of Killian. She often would wonder what he looked like now, how his life turned out, what he was doing. 

“Oh look at you and Killian, you two were just too cute!” her mother said, setting the photo down in the use pile. 

“I remember when Alice took that photo, everything was so good,” her father agreed. 

“Yes, what a shame,” her mom replied, prompting Emma to ask,

“What do you mean?” 

“I just mean it’s a shame she isn’t around for this,” her mom smiled at her, with what looked like tears in her eyes.

A light bulb clicked on in Emma’s mind. Her mom didn’t mean that it was a shame she wasn’t around in the sense of location, but meant she wasn’t around in terms of living. Emma didn’t ask for clarification, she could tell from the looks her parents exchanged that her feelings on the matter were right. That night, she cried. Not just because of the memories that came flooding back, but for her friend, who lost his mother and didn’t have someone to help him. 

Emma could remember the very first time she saw Killian Jones again, so many years after he left her. MySpace had just become popular. It was a few months after her sweet sixteen party. Ruby was the first of them to be allowed a MySpace page. She remembered Ruby saying something about how she was friends with people from all over the world. So for months, she pleaded with her parents to let her have a page. She even wrote them a paper, stating why she deserved one and how she would be safe using it. She told them she wanted a page so that she was on track with all her other friends. But in reality, she just wanted to see if she could find Killian again. 

Thinking back on that now, she knew she was a bit forward. When her parents finally caved and let her create her page (with a ton of overprotecting rules of course), she immediately searched him out. It took some pretty meticulous investigative work, since all she knew about him was his name, birthday, and that he had lived in Ireland. Other than that, she was flying blind. But she found him. 

She immediately knew it was him, he had grown up that was for sure, but he was still the Killian Jones she had known and loved. His profile picture was recent; at least she thought it was. The boy in the picture looked about her age. His sparkling blue eyes were still as vibrant as ever. How they were able to stare through to her soul on a computer, she wasn’t sure, but they still captivated her nonetheless. His hair was longer, making him look a bit tough and a bit moody. He was still skinny. 

Without thinking, she friended him. His page was private, so she had to wait patiently for him to accept her friend request. She was up almost all night, worried that maybe he wouldn’t remember her, that he would deny her request. 

The next afternoon, after a long grueling day at school, she was finally able to get home and check. There it was:  _ Killian Jones accepted your Friend Request _ . Thankfully, her mom was still at school and her dad was on a business trip, so no one was around to witness, what Emma knew was her most embarrassing dance and squeal. 

Normally, she was only allowed to be on the internet for two hours a day, unless her homework required her to be on longer. At the time, she didn’t have her own computer, so she had to use the family one downstairs in the living room. But since her dad was out of town and it was a Tuesday, she knew her mom would be at school till at least 6 with staff meetings and tutoring sessions. So, she used her time wisely and spent the rest of the afternoon learning everything she could about the new Killian Jones, homework be damned. 

His About Me section was simple.  _ I’m Killian. 16. I like sailing, music, football and reading.  _ Emma had to laugh at that. He was what seemed like a typical teenage boy. His general information went into a bit more detail. He had a few bands listed under favorite music that Emma didn’t know, so she wrote them down and said she would try to listen to them. Killian always had good taste in things, so she hoped he still had that quality. 

Emma’s heart soared through when she read what his favorite movie was. Most people would write out a ton of movies, but Killian didn’t. He had just one: The Princess Bride. Emma’s favorite. They used to stay up late some nights watching it, being able to quote the lines by the time they were five. In fact, the photo that her mom had found of them for the party was of them as Westley and Buttercup. 

She studied the rest of his profile for hours, noting his friends, photos, and every little intricate detail that the page had to offer. Before she knew it, she heard her mom’s car pulling into the garage. But, before she could stop herself, she quickly sent off a message to him.

_ Hi Killian, it’s good to see you again. :) _

She got a response back the next day.

_ Hello love, it’s good to see you too. Hope all is well. _

They didn’t really form a new friendship again though. Both of them were too busy with their own lives. Emma’s life was about to kick in full force, as she had to start studying for the SATs and all her advanced placement exams. Plus, she had sports that she had to deal with. It was spring, so softball season was starting up again. That meant very little time to stalk Killian. 

Over the years, as they both grew up some more, and MySpace became uncool and the place to be was Facebook, they found each other again. This time though, they both sent the somewhat mandatory  _ Happy Birthday  _ messages to each other. They never said more than a few words to each other, and Emma, while impulsive before, was now way too self-conscious to send Killian a message asking him about what life was like and what had happened to their friendship. 

Instead, she quietly stalked him, like any good wife would do. She still secretly wondered what it would be like to have him back in her life. She caught herself dreaming of what life might be like if he just showed up one day. She came up with all these crazy scenarios in her mind, each one more wild than the last, knowing that they would never come true. They both lived separate lives now. But it was a good escape when she needed it. 

“I knew it! I knew I would find you here looking at that page again,” she heard Mary Margaret’s voice call out to her from her classroom doorway. Emma didn’t know how Mary Margaret knew that she was looking at his page, but it didn’t surprise her. Mary Margaret knew everything, mostly. 

“How did you…” Emma started to say before Mary Margaret interrupted.

“I just know you. Plus, it seems like whenever I try to set you up - with really nice guys, by the way - you always find yourself daydreaming away over that page,” she smiled. 

“I know,” Emma sighed. 

“Emma, you know I am a sucker for love stories, and this does have the making to be a good one, but one day, you are going to have to let that dream go or do something about it,” her friend said, coming over to sit down at the tutoring desk Emma and set up next to hers. 

“You’re right, but not today. It’s just with everything that is going on, I guess I just needed a break from reality,” she confessed.

“I know. So, anything new?” she asked cocking her head towards the computer screen. 

Mary Margaret knew just what to do to make Emma smile. They had been friends since college, meeting on their first day at orientation and eventually becoming roommates. Mary Margaret knew all about Emma’s weird obsession with her “husband”. For a while, she thought it was cute. Two lovers who were always meant to be together, who have been separated by the world, finally come back together to live happily ever after. But, after getting married herself and having two kids, Mary Margaret was firmly stuck in reality and wanted Emma to join her in the mommy club soon. She also just wanted to see Emma happy, and she clearly wasn’t happy stalking a man on Facebook. 

“Nope, it’s the same as always,” Emma said.

“He is one of the only men I know that doesn’t update his Facebook on a daily basis,” Mary Margaret giggled, and it was funny considering she didn’t really know him. 

“It’s refreshing though, and comforting,” she smiled back. 

“Is that why you were looking at it?” she questioned, and Emma knew she already knew the answer.

“Yeah, I guess. Just with the agency’s decision and you trying to get me to go out with that guy, Walsh – by the way, who names their kid that? I guess I just needed to escape for a little,” she confided.

“Emma, I know it sucks, but you will get Henry one day. It will all work out; you just have to believe in it.” Mary Margaret always knew just what to say to make her feel better.

“I know; it’s just hard. I mean, I work hard, I earn good money, and I am a great role model. Henry’s been with me for almost two years now, and I think it’s been very good for him, so why wouldn’t they approve me already? And all over the fact I’m not married? I mean look at David – his father wasn’t involved in his life and he turned out great!” Emma was starting to get upset. 

David was Mary Margaret’s husband and another teacher at the school Emma worked at. He taught History and the moment he met Mary Margaret, he fell in love and they were married less than a year after they met. He was raised by only a mother, a wonderful woman who passed away soon after they were married, and David was seriously the most honest, good, honorable guy anyone could meet. 

“He did, but Emma, you know they have to make sure you really are set. You just have to keep trying and make sure they know you are serious. Have you talked to Henry about it?” she asked.

“I did, we went out to dinner last night and I explained it to him. He doesn’t understand it either, but he said he still wants me to be his mom for real. I made sure I was still able to stay his foster mom no matter what, but like he said, we want it to be real.” Emma was almost on the verge of tears. 

She understood Henry, because she too was an orphan. Sure, she had a different upbringing, being adopted by the Swans when she was two days old – her birth mother choosing drugs over her own daughter and her father probably not even knowing she existed. But the Swans took her in and never treated her like she wasn’t really theirs. They never hid her adoption, always willing to talk to her about it, even going through the motions of finding her birth mother when she was fourteen because she wanted to know what happened to her. They held her as she cried when told her birth mother overdosed a few years after she was born. 

From the time she was twelve she had decided, even if she could have children naturally, she wanted to adopt and foster. She wanted to help out as many kids as she could. There was even a time in college when she wanted to be a social worker and work with children in that horrible situation, but teaching called to her. 

During her third year of teaching, while she was volunteering at an adoption and fostering agency, she met Henry. He was a scrawny eight year old who was on his eighteenth foster family since being born. She really couldn’t understand why though. He was bright, charming, and respectful – sure he was very inquisitive, always having a question that needed to be answered, but overall a good kid. The following year, after a long process, she was approved to be a foster parent and immediately brought Henry into her house. 

The past two years with him had been amazing. Watching Henry experience everything that Emma gave him, was the best thing Emma has ever seen. She knew, almost right away, that she wanted to adopt him, but that it would take time. She just wasn’t expecting this battle; she wasn’t expecting what they were throwing at her. 

Mary Margaret was right though: if she just kept fighting, if she just kept going, if she just kept the faith, in the end, Henry would be hers and they would be able to live happily ever after. 

“Give it time; it will all work out in the end,” her best friend smiled at her. 

The bell rang, interrupting their conversation.

“Well, back to the trenches,” Mary Margaret said, trying to sound sad.

“Please, we all know you love when your planning period ends and you get to get back to teaching,” Emma said.

“It’s true,” she beamed, bouncing out of Emma’s classroom, blowing her friend a kiss along the way. 

She took a moment to compose herself. She knew everything Mary Margaret said was right. She knew she just had to keep the faith, and she knew that she would need to shake this fanciful fixation she had with Killian. She would be leading herself on if she continued to think that in some far off life, she would finally see him again. It was a pipe dream and she couldn’t live with it anymore.

Thankfully she didn’t have to think about it too long, as her class was starting to fill in and she was ready to get to work. 

It didn’t take long for Emma to be in the zone again. She was truly at home in the classroom. They say some people are just meant to be teachers, and Emma knew she was one of them. Her students loved her and respected her. She always knew how to teach them, make them laugh, and inspire them. Plus, today, she got to start her favorite lesson of them all: genetics. 

She was so focused on what she was doing that when her computer pinged at the back of her classroom, she didn’t even notice. Her afternoons were pretty busy and she didn’t get a moment to look at her computer until the day had ended and the students had left. She went through the motions, clicking the menus until she was at the message center, where what she saw stopped her heart.

Killian had sent her a message. And from just the first few words that were previewed, she knew that it was way more than their normal birthday messages. She held her breath when she clicked the message to open it.

_ Hey Emma, So I’m back in town. I wanted to know if you wanted to meet up for dinner soon and catch up. I know it’s been a while - a really long while - and you may be pissed at me for losing touch, but I would really like to meet up, give me a chance to explain. Let me know. I’ve missed you Swan.  _

She really couldn’t believe what she was reading. It was just hours ago that she swore she was going to give up. That she was going to put the memory of Killian Jones to rest. She had spent a majority of her life wondering about him, thinking about him. Now, she could finally get her chance - she could finally figure out if she had been truly dreaming all along, making him out to be some fantasy he could never live up to, or if she really did have someone out there perfect for her.

Yet, she didn’t reply back so quickly. She had more than herself to think about. She had Henry now. What effect would Killian coming back into her life have on him? What would she tell him? In the two years she has been with Henry, known him, she had never talked about going out, let alone actually going out on a date. And Henry was almost as bad as Mary Margaret, constantly asking her when she was going to actually go out and have some fun. What would he think if she told him she was going out with Killian?

Then more questions filled her mind - a constant bombardment of what ifs and why nots. Emma had always had some light anxiety issues - being orphaned will do that to you no matter how short of a period it was.

She found herself even questioning if it was a date? He didn’t call it that. She thought to herself that it probably wasn’t a date anyways - he probably wasn’t even interested in her like that. She was just a dear old friend that he wanted to catch up with. But why wouldn’t he want to date her? Well, she was pretty much a single mom now, not really anyone’s catch. And those battles continued to fight for the next hour. Of course, her fears were amplified knowing that he knew she had read the message (stupid Facebook).

Finally, she came to a conclusion. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure what his intentions were or why he even wanted to meet up in the first place - since, like he said, it had been so long. But she owed it to herself to get not only explanations but closure on the subject. Maybe this was just what she needed to finally move past this silly little school girl crush. She believed she didn’t truly love him, just loved the idea of what could have been. So she sent him a quick reply before locking up.

_ Hey Killian. Sure, let’s meet. 6PM tomorrow, Granny’s (I hope you remember where it is!) our old booth. See you then. _


	2. Chapter 2

He took in a big long breath before hitting send on his computer. He was taking a huge chance on this message and he hoped that it wouldn’t be wasted. Initially, he didn’t want to even send the message, wanting to keep everything the same as it had been for years. But fate was a funny thing and he couldn’t put it off much longer; also Liam, his older brother, wouldn’t let him.

It was finally time to see Emma again after so many years. 

Since he could remember, Killian Jones had been obsessed with Emma Swan. At first, when they were little, she really was just his best friend. They did everything together. Some of the boys made fun of him when they were four or five because his best friend was a girl, but he didn’t care about that. Emma was more adventurous, more daring, and more fun than any of the boys he was in school or sports with. Plus, she lived next door, which meant he didn’t have to go very far to find someone to play with him. 

Emma’s mother and his were best friends, too. In fact, he always felt like Emma’s mother, Ingrid, was a second mom to him. He knew that if he couldn’t talk to his mom, she would be there for him. So while he enjoyed her friendship, he also knew that in the end, they would have been forced to be friends. 

Not only was Emma the best friend a kid could ask for, she was also his wife. He didn’t remember exactly how or why it happened, but he was glad that it did. When they were five, out of the blue, he just asked Emma to marry him. He remembered saying something along the lines of wanting to be with his best friend forever, and marriage was forever. He could remember some moments when he would look at Emma and just smile. He knew that he didn’t want to live in a world where Emma Swan didn’t exist. 

She wore a bright red dress that day, and he was dressed up in a nice shirt and little bow tie. He was pretty sure it happened to be picture day at school, too, as his mom had a photo of him with those cheesy backgrounds in the same outfit. She had a little crown of flowers that accented her wavy blonde hair perfectly. He was pretty sure that if he got up the courage to look through his mother’s things that were stored at Liam’s, he would find a picture of Emma that immortalized what she looked like that day. It was something he remembered growing up; his mom kept just as many pictures of Emma as she did of her own boys. 

After their wedding, Killian gave Emma her very first kiss. Five year olds are weird in that they aren’t quite sure what a kiss really means or could stand for. Also, it was very well known that at that age, girls carried cooties – or, as he was sure the girls of that day would say to Emma, that he carried them. He remembered their officiant; a little red headed boy named Archie that was in their class and whose father was a pastor, gave them cootie shots and told them that they could kiss. Most boys his age would steer clear of kissing a girl, but Killian wasn’t like most boys his age. He went in for the kill. It was a very short kiss, a quick peck with both of their eyes squeezed shut in a mixture of concern and surprise. When he stepped back, Emma was blushing, staring down at her feet. Yet, there was a slight smile on her lips. 

For the rest of the school year, things didn’t change. He found it funny at the time, because his mom and dad used to say that marriage changed everything. Yet, he still played with Emma on a daily basis. She still beat him at soccer, and he still beat her at dodgeball. They still raced home after school and ate their afternoon snacks together in her treehouse. She still made fun of the way he spoke sometimes and he still made fun of her for the way her hair frizzed when it rained. 

Nothing really changed. They were still Emma and Killian. They were still best friends. 

However, while things with Emma and school were good, things at home weren’t. He didn’t quite understand what was going on at the time, but Liam was angry all the time, his dad would leave for days and when he was home, he was drunk, and his mom just seemed off. She tried to hide the drama away from Killian, but he knew something was wrong. Her eyes just didn’t sparkle like they used to. 

About a year after Killian and Emma got married, he was told they were going to be moving to Ireland. It was devastating. It was also rather quick. Their house didn’t get packed up, their belongings stayed in their spots. All that was packed was their clothing, stuffed into suitcases and duffle bags. The next morning, they left for the airport. Killian knew Emma wanted to go with him – he didn’t even have to ask, he just knew that she would follow him anywhere. And truthfully, he would do the same for her. 

The night before, he even asked his mom if he could stay behind, and live with the Swans. Ingrid was Alice’s best friend after all, and he liked Emma’s father James way more than he liked his own father. His father never looked at him the way James looked at Emma. His father yelled at him constantly, whereas James spoke to Emma with kindness and patience. He wished he had a father like Emma’s. But his mom said she would miss him too much and he needed to go with her.

Things were weird to say the least. He also asked his mom where his dad was, since they were leaving in such a hurry. She told him that is why they had to go. They had to go get their father from Ireland; they had to be a family again. He was so angry. It had been three weeks since his dad had gone away on business, and truthfully Killian didn’t care if his dad came back or not. 

But there he sat, next to Emma, with tears slowly streaming down her face. He didn’t want to leave her. She had become so much more than a best friend to him. She was his rock, his anchor. She made him feel better when everything else sucked. He didn’t think he would be able to deal with life if Emma wasn’t there by his side. Who else would understand when he got angry over his mother crying? Who else would understand that he was self-conscious about his ears? Still, nothing he did, no matter how much he pleaded with his mom or Liam, they wouldn’t let him stay with her. 

They sat quietly at the airport. He didn’t want to let go of her hand. He had held Emma’s hand as long as he could remember. It was their thing. People used to say they were attached at the hip, but in reality, they were attached at the hands. When they would walk anywhere, it was hand in hand. It was just natural for them. He wanted to tell her so much, wanted to make her feel better, but the words never came. He wanted to make sure she understood he would come back one day, but he somehow knew he couldn’t make that promise to her. 

He could hear her screams as he boarded the plane. He had a window seat, but couldn’t bear to look out the window, because if he even got a glimpse of a blonde haired girl, he wouldn’t be able to hold it together. He was a mess on the inside. He just wanted to go home, and not Ireland. 

Slept overtook him on the flight and once they arrived and settled into the two bedroom apartment in his mother’s hometown, he fell into despair. He had promised Emma that he would write to her, and he wanted to write to her so badly, but there were no paper or pencils in the apartment - just a musty old twin bed in the master bedroom and a crappy, probably now unsafe, bunk bed in the other. There wasn’t even furniture in the living room or a TV. They had to use their suitcases as plates to eat the food they got from the airport after they landed. 

Over the next three weeks, things went from bad to worse. Their dad was in town and he did come by to see them, but he was drunk. He was rude and crass and Killian didn’t want to spend another minute in the room with him. He ended up staying the night and the following day, when his mother emerged from the bedroom, his father nowhere in sight, he could see bruises on her skin. At that time, he thought that his father may be beating his mother, but he found out that it was much different later on. 

He was finally able to write Emma when he started school. He kept his first letter short, since he was still practicing with writing and didn’t do too well at it – he didn’t have his best friend supporting him and encouraging him, after all. But he had Liam, who helped him. He didn’t like that Killian mentioned that he was crying, but he didn’t protest. Liam was good like that. He knew that if Killian wanted Emma to know that, then it was important. 

When he was finished, he drew some pictures for her on the back, with the crayons he stole from the school. He knew stealing was wrong, but he also would do anything to see Emma smile and he knew his pictures would do that. They didn’t have any crayons at home, so he had to take them. They were brand new - another kid had brought in a couple of boxes for the class, and Killian just took one and put it in his backpack. So he spent hours drawing those photos. He wanted Emma to really see that he was missing her. 

He kept writing Emma through the drama that unfolded. A few weeks after his first letter went out, his mom came home from a doctor’s appointment looking worse for the wear. She came into the boy’s bedroom and sat down on their floor. By this time they had some toys and items to make the apartment seem homier, but he missed his room at his old house. From his room, he could see Emma’s. He could watch her sneak out and race over to his house. He would know exactly when to meet her at the door to let her in. They would then lie in his bed together and listen to the crickets chirp. 

She took a hold of his tiny hand and told him a long tale. She told him of a young knight who was scared of the world, but found solace in a princess. She told him that the princess would always be there for him, even if she was far away. She also told him that the knight had a family that he had to take care of first, and that the princess would understand. She told him that she loved him very much, and it was then that he noticed the tears in his mom’s eyes.

“Ma, what’s wrong?” he asked in a shy voice.

“Killy, I’m sick. I am going to try my hardest to get better, but I may not get any better. Do you understand?” she replied, large circles were clearly noticeable under her eyes.

“Kinda, why are you sick?” he had to know.

“I have cancer, my darling,” she said back, pulling him closer. He knew what cancer meant. There was a boy in Emma and Killian’s kindergarten class whose mother had cancer and passed away. Tears picked up in his eyes as the realization that his mom may die hit him.

“I promise, I am going to fight as hard as I can, and I need you to be strong while I try to get better, can you promise me that?” She looked into his eyes.

“I’ll try, mama,” he promised.

The next couple of months were rough. He saw his mother go through hell. He had been gone from Emma for almost a year. He hadn’t told her that his mom had cancer. He didn’t want to worry her. He knew how much Emma loved his mom. She claimed it was the accent – that Alice had an accent that could make everything wrong in the world just disappear when she told a story. But Killian knew it was more than that. Everything about his mother was good. Yet, all that good was slowly starting to disappear from her body. She got skinnier; her hair thinned out then completely fell out. And while she was bald, she was still beautiful in her son’s eyes. 

He saw her go from having a good appetite to barely being able to keep down soup. He watched as her strength to do simple activities, like walking around the park or sitting up in bed, diminished. He watched as the breath in her got shallow and hard. 

But through it all, he stayed strong. He had to be strong. 

Even though the cancer was bad, his father was worse. Right after his mom was diagnosed, right after she held Killian in her arms and told him the truth, after she held him while they both cried, afraid to say what may happen to her, his dad left for good. Killian and Liam sat in their room while their mom begged their father to stay. He heard his mom claim that she would lose the will to live if he left her. She said she couldn’t beat this without him. She yelled that she needed him to be there for the kids if things got bad. Still, through all the begging and pleading, Brennan Jones took his leave.

He claimed that he didn’t sign up for any of this. He claimed he still had living to do and he couldn’t do that with a sick wife and two bratty kids. He said that she was holding him back. He said he regretted even being with her and them. 

Liam was angry. He had never seen his brother get so upset. After Brennan walked away for good, Liam took the lamp from their dresser and threw it against the wall. He swore that Brennan would regret the day he hurt his mom and left them in the dust. 

Still, with hell coming down around them, he never told Emma anything. He always tried to keep the letters bright and sunny. Not for his sake, but hers. But in one letter, he did let his emotions show just a bit. 

It was a week or so after Brennan left them, that he wrote Emma the most personal letter. It was difficult for him to write, because he was only six and his vocabulary and pencil skills were poor, but he just had to tell her something. He spent days writing it out, making sure to spell each word correctly and making sure each word was written clearly. He wished he could show his mom, she would be so proud, but he knew the letter was too personal for that. 

_ Emma,  _

_ I hope you are doing well. Your letters make me smile. I am going to move back to Storybrooke soon and when I do, I’m going to marry you for real. You are my best friend – forever! I promise I won’t be like my dad and we won’t get divorced like Regina’s. I promise I will be your best friend forever.  _

_ Love, Killian _

Looking back now though, he hates himself for that letter. Not because he didn’t mean what he said; but because he didn’t keep that promise to her. He turned out to be a pretty shitty best friend. When his mom finally passed away after a long battle, he couldn’t find it in himself to send her anymore letters. He just wanted to hide from the world and cry over his mom. He was angry at everything. He was pissed at his dad for being the reason he had to leave Emma and his home. He was pissed that his dad up and left them to fight alone. He was pissed with God for giving his mom cancer and taking her away too soon. He was angry at Liam, because his older brother took custody of him and essentially became his parent instead of a brother. 

He didn’t want any of that anger exposed to Emma. He didn’t want to involve her in his crappy life. He knew she was happy at home. He knew she had made new friends and was doing OK. He didn’t want to ruin any of that. So, he stopped sending the letters.

But, he didn’t stop writing them.

Whenever something bad would happen - whenever he was angry, upset, or emotional in any way - he would write to her. He would then place the letter in an envelope and seal it up. He stuck it in a box under his bed and they never saw the light of day again. 

Throughout his life, he had kept up that act. Whenever something happened, Killian would get out a paper and pen and write to her. When he graduated from elementary school, when he got his first girlfriend, when he lost his virginity, when he graduated from high school and college, and almost everything in-between, he wrote to her. It was therapy for him. He knew that even if Emma couldn’t physically be there, and even though she wasn’t actually reading the letters, she would still be there for him, and she was in terms of those letters.

Of course, she was upset that he stopped writing to her. For a couple of weeks after his mom died, she sent him letters, begging him to write her back, begging him to come back. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

For years, he wondered if he had done the right thing by not involving her, and he knew he did when she found him on MySpace during their sophomore year of high school.

It was a couple of months after her sweet sixteen when he got the friend request. It actually surprised him. He hadn’t been a big MySpace user, but created the profile when Liam mentioned connecting with an old friend from the states. He had hoped that she would find him, or he would find her. But for months, he searched and searched and couldn’t find a profile for her. Of course, it was possible that she just didn’t have one, but it worried him that she didn’t. He was also pretty sure that even if she did have a profile, she wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who turned their back on the best thing that had ever happened to them. 

He immediately friended her back, needing to see just what had been happening in Emma Swan’s life. He spent what felt like hours just staring at her picture. He wondered how long it took her to choose that picture and where it was taken. She was standing in front of what looked like water, her hair flowing in the breeze. It was much longer than it was when they were little. Of course it would be, they had both grown up, but it still surprised him at how long and beautiful it actually was. It seemed brighter, too. 

Her eyes were the same though - still bright with all of the joys of life. Sure, she had a gorgeous smile that could command everyone’s attention, but it was her eyes that kept him there. They were really where her smile was coming from. He could just feel the joy that she had. While staring at the picture, Killian felt like no time passed at all. Plus, he was one lucky son of a bitch to have a wife as good looking as Emma. 

He read through her profile, looked at every single picture she had, and memorized all of her favorite information. He was glad to see that their favorite movie was still listed. To that day, he had still dressed up as Westley anytime a costume party came up. It was his little homage to her. 

She was into the more popular music, but he also knew that she could listen and enjoy almost any type of music. As long as it made her friends smile, Emma would listen to polka music. 

Liam came home to find Killian still sitting at the computer, pouring himself over Emma’s profile.

“Just message her, you prick; tell her you miss her,” he commented, punching his brother in the shoulder before going to put away the food he picked up. 

Liam got a job straight out of high school in order to take care of Killian, forgoing his dream of college for his younger brother. So Liam worked at a construction company nearby. It paid great money, and Liam was now the foreman at another company, so he was happy, and so was Killian. But, it still wasn’t anything to brag about. He was a lanky loner in high school, with a dead mom, a runaway dad, a brother who was just a construction worker, and he was pretty sure he was going nowhere good in life. Why would she even want to talk to him? He was pretty sure she only friended him out of guilt or nostalgia. 

“Maybe later,” he said. And that became Killian’s go to answer for the next decade. 

It was always “maybe later”. Maybe later, he would get the courage to reply back with more than a short sentence. Maybe later, he would get the courage to say something more than “happy birthday” or “merry Christmas”. Maybe later, he would finally tell Emma that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. 

Liam was pretty sure that maybe later would have come sooner. Especially with Facebook. Yet, Killian was stuck in his little bubble, still thinking he wasn’t good enough for Emma Swan. 

When Killian graduated from college, he was finally able to do something good with his life: he joined the Navy. Thankfully, he was a dual citizen, and he was able to join the US Navy. So, between basic training, officer school, and pretty steady deployments, Killian didn’t have the time to update his Facebook the way Emma did. But, her constant updates and photos kept him going during long deployments and obnoxious times. 

She seemed to have the perfect life. She appeared to have friends that truly cared about her. She was so happy in all her pictures. Her smile radiated in each new one that appeared. He saw pictures of her playing sports, pictures of her and her friends at the mall and at the beach, pictures of them at formal events. There were even pictures of her with some guys, which didn’t exactly make Killian happy, but he was happy she seemed happy. 

Seeing her so happy made every bad thing that happened to him better.

The Navy had taken him all over the world. He had been to Japan, to Australia, to Iraq, and even to Antarctica. He didn’t have a family, so anytime there was a chance to deploy, he took it. But he couldn’t keep playing that card anymore. The Navy has a limit and Killian had reached it. It was time for him to stay in one place for a while. 

Call it kismet, call it destiny, call it luck - but no matter what you call it, when it came time for Killian to choose orders, Storybrooke was the only option.

Liam had moved back to Storybrooke right after Killian went to college. He had missed Storybrooke almost as much as Killian did. Killian, being ten years younger than his brother, never really understood what Liam had to go through, but he knew he would be eternally grateful to his brother. Not only did he leave a life behind in when they moved, but a potential career, too. 

Liam had been the star baseball player, and had been actively scouted for a few years. Any college was up for grabs. He had a wonderful girlfriend, who meant just as much to him as Emma did to his little brother. Yet, he gave it all up to be with his brother and mother.

He gave up college to take care of Killian. He sacrificed everything just so that his little brother could do sports, or go on a field trip, or even eat food some weeks. He was the father Killian never had.

But, in the years since Liam moved, Killian never truly visited Storybrooke. Something always came up. Liam could see through his bullshit though. It was simply because Emma was still in Storybrooke and Killian was still too scared to see her. Instead, he would visit a nearby town and Liam would come and visit him. Killian never ventured into Storybrooke.

While Storybrooke was big enough to house a Naval yard, it was still a pretty small community. It wasn’t like San Diego or Norfolk, where the base was so large that you didn’t even know your own neighbor. But it wasn’t so small that you knew everyone. It was truly the perfect size town. But Killian knew that if he visited, he would run into Emma and he just wasn’t ready for that.

Of course he wanted to see his best friend again, wanted to hold her in his arms, wanted to make sure she knew just how much being separated from her killed him. But he was ashamed. Ashamed at how quickly he hid from her, how quickly he let go of the most important friendship in the world just because he was embarrassed and scared. 

But he couldn’t hide anymore. 

He had been in Storybrooke less than a week and he had already caught glimpses of her four times.

Each time, his heart stopped and he forgot what he was doing. He first spotted her as he was driving through town on his way in from the airport. He hadn’t even been in town an hour and he already saw her. She was walking on Main Street with a couple, one with short black hair, and the other with short blonde hair. He recognized them from her photos on Facebook. They were standing outside the ice cream shop with a teenage boy. Emma looked so happy and Killian was so memorized that he accidentally ran a stop sign.

The second time was grocery shopping. He was just pulling into the parking lot as Emma walked out with two bags in hand. She must have just gotten off of work, because she looked different than her pictures. She was in a dress with her hair pulled back, exposing her neck. He hid in his car until she left, driving a yellow bug that looked identical to the one his mom used to drive. 

The third and fourth time happened on the same day, and he knew that he couldn’t go much longer without reaching out to her. He was out with Liam on Saturday night. Their first stop was the Mad Hatter, a bar in the center of town. It wasn’t a tourist place, and only the locals hung out there. He was sitting in a darkened corner booth when she walked in. 

At first, he was a bit worried that she would be on a date, but he let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was alone. She looked beautiful though. Her jeans were tight and hugged her in all the right places. Her shirt was just a bit see through, showing the outline of her bra. Her hair fell down her back in large waves. 

He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He was glad Liam had gone outside to call his wife, because he wouldn’t have let Killian live it down. He knew that if Liam saw Emma, he would call her over almost immediately. So Killian held his breath waiting to see what would happen. 

Emma took a shot that the bartender gave her, winked and walked out. 

“Hey little bro, looks like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Liam said as he slid into the booth. 

“Younger brother,” was Killian’s traditional reply, “and I think I did. I just saw Emma.”

“Really? I didn’t see her,” Liam said looking around.

“She came in, took a shot and left,” Killian explained.

“Oh, she must be going to the club then,” he replies, like he knew everything and that was supposed to explain what just happened to Killian.

Thankfully Liam added some more information when he saw the confused look on his brother’s face.

“There’s a club across the street. Their drinks are outrageously expensive. Ladies get in for free and can come and go as they please, so they tend to come and go from here to get their drinks, then go back over to Ruby’s to dance,” he explained.

“Oh,” Killian responded unsure of how to actually respond to that. 

“Want to check it out?” Liam asked.

Killian did want to see Emma again, but a club was different. First, it wasn’t really his scene. He stood out like a sore thumb in places like that. Secondly, he didn’t want Emma to see him, not yet, not before he was ready. 

He was about to say no when Liam didn’t leave him an option.

“We’re going. And I think it would be the perfect opportunity to say hello to an old friend,” his brother added, pulling him from the booth and pushing him towards the door. 

The line to get into the club wasn’t bad. The price, though, was outrageous! 20 bucks a head if you were a guy. 

“How in the bloody hell can this club even make money? Twenty a head, and you said the girls all leave to drink, so how does it stay in business?” Killian asked.

“Ruby. It’s really as simple as that. Ruby owns the place. Everyone knows her. Guys pay to get in cause the girls are gorgeous and the bar is nice. Girls come cause they know Ruby lets them drink for cheap across the street and she gives them a place to dance. Unless Jefferson opens a dance floor, Ruby will keep making the money,” Liam explained. 

They finally got in and he immediately spotted Emma on the dance floor. It was like a spot light shone just on her. Her entire body was shining bright, welcoming him in. He was drawn to her. Yet, he was frozen in his spot. He was awestruck, watching her move to the music so intently that he didn’t even notice someone knocking into him, spilling a bit of their drink on him.

“Well, go on, little brother,” Liam urged.

But Killian didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if it was physically possible.

He also knew, in that split second moment that he couldn’t let the first time he talked to Emma Swan in over 20 years be on a dance floor. She deserved better than that.

He turned and ran out of the club. 

The whole way back to Liam’s, where Killian was staying until he found a place, his brother made fun of him. He knew he was never going to live it down.

As they pulled into the house, Liam finally said something that wasn’t giving him a hard time.

“Eventually, you are going to have to talk to her. Man up already. Remember, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

And that stuck with him for a few more days. He would stare at her photo on Facebook, trying to will himself to send her a message. He kept telling himself that it didn’t matter what he actually said, she would be happy to hear from him. At least, he hoped she would be. 

Liam finally got annoyed with his behavior and took things into his own hands, which as hard as it was for Killian to admit, was just what he needed to get over everything and reach out to her. 

Killian walked in from an early shift to see Liam had written a message to Emma for him. He hadn’t hit send, but there was a sticky note saying that if he didn’t get his head out of his ass and send it to her, Liam would soon. Killian knew that he needed to be the one to reach out, and with the fear of Liam being Liam, he edited the message a bit, and hit send.

_ Hey Emma, So I’m back in town. I wanted to know if you wanted to meet up for dinner soon and catch up. I know it’s been a while - a really long while - and you may be pissed at me for losing touch, but I would really like to meet up, give me a chance to explain. Let me know. I’ve missed you Swan _

He sat in front of that computer for what seemed like days. His emotions were all over the place. He was scared as hell as to what her response was going to be. And with each passing minute that she didn’t respond, his internal monologue got worse. 

_ She thinks you’re crap. You were a shitty friend and she knows it. You left her alone for over 20 years; what kind of person does that? Do you really expect her to care now? Do you really expect her to write back? She knows better, her life is better off without you.  _

Finally, the Gods took pity on him, and Emma messaged him back. He was scared to look at first, but when he saw just what she wrote he was ecstatic. Something in him changed in that moment. All of a sudden, nothing in the past mattered anymore.

_ Hey Killian. Sure, let’s meet. 6PM tomorrow, Granny’s (I hope you remember where it is!) our old booth. See you then. _

With those words, Killian vowed to himself that he was going to right things with Emma one way or another, and he had the perfect idea of how to start - by making good on a promise he made so many years ago. 


	3. Chapter 3

Emma was out of her element. She spent the entire day in a tizzy. 

She didn’t think when she agreed to this dinner that she would be like this. It was just a dinner after all. Just a dinner with a man whom she had dreamt about for years. Just a dinner with someone she held close, even if they had been far apart for decades. 

_ Shit, _ she thought to herself. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this. She initially thought she was. She was ready to see him again after all these years. She was ready to see if their friendship could still be there. She was ready to see if what she had for Killian Jones was more than just some fantasy that helped her pass the time. But now, she wasn’t quite sure.

As she got ready that morning, wearing her normal Friday outfit of jeans, a white tee, and her red leather jacket, she could feel the nerves bubble up inside. It was starting to sink in that in less than 12 hours, she would be talking to Killian again. She began to wonder what his voice sounded like. She was pretty sure that Killian’s once small but accented voice had disappeared, but what it sounded like now was a mystery. Was his voice deep and full of lust that most men had, or was it still light and airy? Did he still have the same accent, or did it change when he moved? 

Henry yelling for her from down the hall pulled her from her thoughts for a while. When she kept busy, images and ideas of Killian disappeared. But when she had a moment to let her thoughts drift, they always drifted back to him. 

She found herself in the teacher’s lounge, pouring her third cup of coffee for the morning, thinking about the issues with the date. She had finally settled on calling it that on the car ride over.

Were they just going to ruin everything? Emma had spent years dreaming of what might happen if Killian came back into her life. The dreams ranged from them staying friends, to him saying he hated her and never wanted to see her again, to him declaring his undying love for her. What if the reality didn’t match up to any of the dreams? What if she was let down by the interaction? What if she made up everything she remembered about him? They were only six, for God sakes, when they parted, and so much could have changed. 

The night before, she had a dream about it. Because of that, that she knew it wouldn’t be an easy day. She had almost canceled that morning because of that dream. She dreamt she walked into Granny’s only to find their old booth empty. The booth that they once shared as children as their moms sat and graded papers was empty, just like her heart had been. She looked down at her watch and saw that she was early, so a bit of hope filled her chest. She sat down and watched the door like a hawk. Her breathing quickened each time the bell above the door jingled, her heart dropped each time it quieted and he hadn’t walked through the door. She looked back down at her watch, only a minute had passed, yet it felt like hours. The dream continued like that for eternity. Finally, when she looked down at her watch and it showed 7, she gave up and left. As her dream left the diner, Emma jerked awake in a cold sweat. 

Nightmares were supposed to be about what you feared most, what truly scared your conscious, and for Emma, that meant Killian not showing up, throwing away their flicker of a friendship, breaking her heart in two. 

Her thoughts were non-stop. She couldn’t help it. The fear of the unknown was pretty debilitating. So much so that she overfilled her coffee mug, coffee spilling onto her hand and across the counter. She didn’t even hear David come in and come to her rescue.

“Jesus, Emma, be careful!” he exclaimed. 

“Oh shit, sorry,” she began, not even looking to see the mess she knew she had made.

Instead, she looked right at David, a small smile crossing her face. 

In the few short years she had known David Nolan, he had made a drastic impact on her life. David had become the brother Emma never had, but so desperately wanted. He filled the hole Killian left, in his own special way. Yes, Mary Margaret was a great friend, but David was really her best friend; she would never say that to Mary Margaret, though. 

While Mary Margaret was a sucker for romance, hope, and beauty, David was stuck in reality. He kept his wife grounded when she tended to float away in fantasy. But his wife also allowed him to dream a bit. Emma’s personality matched David’s more. She needed someone to tell her the honest truth sometimes. She needed someone who knew when to give her hope and when blunt honesty was needed, and David was just that guy.

“I haven’t seen you this tense in a while. The last time was when you were putting in to foster Henry. Did something happen?” He questioned, concern lacing his voice.

“Oh no, Henry is great. I mean, of course the adoption agency didn’t want to grant me the petition, but we are trying again. But no, I’m just out of it today,” she lied.

She hadn’t told the couple about her upcoming date. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them. She knew neither one of them would make fun of her for saying yes to meeting him again. Hell, both of them had been encouraging her for years to reach out and truly talk to him. Sure, Mary Margaret’s encouragement was littered with questions about Emma’s love life, but she was still supportive and just wanted to see Emma happy. 

She hadn’t told them simply because she was so unsure about what it all meant. She was already scared that she was getting her hopes up by thinking about all that could happen. She didn’t want to add in their hope as well. She knew Mary Margaret would be overwhelming with positivity and excitement. She didn’t want to have to let her down if things didn’t go well.

Emma laughed at herself, finding it funny that in that moment she was more concerned about her friend’s feelings about the date than her own. But the laugh wasn’t as quiet as she thought it was.

“What?” David questioned.

“I’ll tell you later,” she replied, hoping that it would end the conversation. She didn’t want to tell them anything until there was something to tell, and Emma knew if she told David, Mary Margaret would know within minutes. Plus, she needed to get out of there and wash off before going to class.

“OK, but whatever is going on, Emma, stop worrying. I know that’s what you are doing; I’ve known you for long enough now. Everything will work out in the end,” he said, reaching for Emma’s slightly burnt hand and giving it a squeeze.

Emma smiled at him as he let go and walked out of the lounge, leaving Emma to quickly clean up her mess and get ready for the first class of the day.

Her Fridays were always pretty chill. Most of her students would agree that Emma was the best teacher in the science department. She never took life too seriously, made the kids laugh, and took the time to really get to know them. She wasn’t super strict, but the kids knew not to cross her. They always had the same schedule in her class. Fridays, after they took a test, was a review day, where they went over the test they had just taken. However, it wasn’t like a normal review, Emma turned it into a game, so that the kids wouldn’t feel so bad about getting some things wrong. 

The problem was that she allowed the kids a bit too much freedom with the review game. They ran everything, while she sat back and refereed. 

The game was distracting a bit, but little things would bring her back to thinking about the night to come. For example, one of her students, a boy that was friends with Henry named Avery, started talking about his mom and dad having their “date night” when another asked if he could get on and play Call of Duty later. Of course, the word date set her off. Her palms became sweaty, the words her students were saying began to be drowned out by a weird buzzing sound, and her eyesight was too focused. She wasn’t paying attention to what anyone was doing. She was so zoned out that she didn’t even see one of her students, Gideon, trip another, on his way to the board. 

Even after that incident, she still couldn’t help but focus on what may happen. During her second period class, she found herself literally in a daydream. She didn’t want to let it happen, especially after the previous dream, but her mind was a creature of its own. 

All around her, the classroom disappeared, and the inside of Granny’s appeared. It was so real, that she thought she could hear the grill in the back. She saw him sitting with his back towards her. She knew it was him because of his hair. That hair that she had memorized from pictures. Sure, most of the pictures she saw of him were from the front, but she was pretty sure she had the correct picture of the back in her mind. She swore she could even smell the shampoo he used - or at least that she thought he would use, the scent was just right for him. As she began to see herself walk forward towards him, she felt a rush of emotions. It was a complete out of body experience. Her heart began to beat faster and she couldn’t tell if she was walking slower or faster. She began to turn towards Killian, but before anything could happen, a yell pulled her from her dream. 

“Miss Swan, tell him I’m right!” she heard one of her students say. 

She quickly regained composure and went back to work. 

The rest of the day went about the same, except for her planning period right before lunch. She knew it would be the hardest part of the day. She would be completely alone with her thoughts. She didn’t have any real work to do for school. Her year had been planned out, her tests had been graded, and she was caught up on all the assignments that had been submitted. Normally, she loved her planning periods. She would get on Netflix, binge watch  _ The Office _ or  _ Bob’s Burgers, _ and just relax while eating her lunch, but today, not even Michael Scott’s antics could distract her. 

Without wanting it to happen, she was back in that daydream from before. Her mind picked right back up where it left off. 

_ She was walking slowly towards the back booth. Everything around her seemed so real. She could hear Granny yelling at a customer. It made her smile. Granny’s yelling always came from a place of love. She didn’t yell at you if she didn’t love you. She saw Ashley behind the counter, wiping it down after her daughter had made a mess of the area with her chocolate cake. Her focus though came back to that booth. As if she didn’t have to move at all, the floor pulled her towards him. She reached out to touch him, but decided against it. She didn’t want to startle him, and she also didn’t think she could handle what he felt like. Would his shoulder be hard? He looked to be in shape, so it would probably feel so good under her palm.  _

_ Instead, her daydream decided to just sit down. As she turned, she took in the sight in front of her.  _

_ And just like that, what seemed like a lovely version of her nightmare, she was thrust back into her fears.  _

_ The man who sat in front of her transformed. All of a sudden he wasn't in shape. He wasn’t what his profile picture shown. He was the 6 year old who had left her all those years ago. He had tears in his eyes. His hair unruly and unkept. He was skinnier than he was when he left, which is saying something, since he was a scrawny kid to begin with.  _

_ “Killian?” she said. _

_ “Emma? Why didn’t you stay my friend?” he questioned, the tears began to run down his face. _

_ “Ummm…” she was so confused about what was going on.  _

_ “Why didn’t you care?” the ghost asked her. _

_ Emma was stunned. Why was he asking her these things? It didn’t stop. After she didn’t answer him, he kept asking the same questions, or similar ones. Why didn’t she call, why didn’t she keep writing, why didn’t she follow him, why didn’t she reach out more, why didn’t she want more, why didn’t she do something?  _

_ Her heart began to beat faster, she couldn’t find the words to tell him the truth. She felt the guilt bubbling up inside. Was she the real reason they were where they were? _

The bell for lunch rang, pulling Emma back out of her dream. She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep. At least it wasn’t the first time she had fallen asleep at her desk after a restless night stemming from bad dreams. 

As she headed down to the teacher’s lounge, she had to think about the dream. First, what if he didn’t look like his pictures showed? What if those were old pictures and he was really different? She knew he wasn’t catfishing her; he spoke to her in a way only Killian ever did. But, still, what if he looked completely different? She didn’t think she would hate him, she didn’t think she would be angry, but she may be disappointed. 

But really, she was worried that he was going to question why she stopped their friendship. She was petrified that he was going to blame her for everything that happened. All the questions that she was being asked in the dream, she knew she should be asking him. She did try—she tried so hard to keep him in her life. It killed her how much the discommunication hurt. She tried to write, she tried to call, and she begged her parents time and time again to send her with him. She fought as hard as she could for them. 

Did he fight for her? Something in her wanted to spend the dinner tonight grilling him about that. She wanted to demand answers for all those questions that she cried over. But, at the same time, she didn’t want to blame him. She knows that life had been hard for him, and that she couldn’t blame him for a child’s actions. She had gotten over the anger and hurt ages ago. 

As she entered the teacher’s lounge she was thankful that it was lunch. Lunches on Fridays at the school were always loud and a good distraction. The school had won a prize the year before, so every Friday a nice lunch was purchased for the teachers as a thank you. So, the lounge was packed with almost every teacher lined up to get a plate of tamales. 

Her coworkers were pretty talkative, so her mind stayed distracted which was welcomed. She only hoped the rest of the day stayed that way. 

She was also thankful that Mary Margaret wasn’t at lunch today. She had lunch duty, which meant instead of a catered meal, she would be walking around the cafeteria making sure the students didn’t get into too much trouble. Of course, that meant that David had joined her as well. So, she instead sat with Elsa, the Home Ec teacher, and Belle, the librarian. 

Emma used to say she didn’t have many friends. It used to be just Killian, but when he moved, she was forced to come out of her shell a bit more. Ruby was the first, followed by Lily a few years later. Eventually, she really developed a knack for making friends. People tended to migrate towards her since she knew how to be honest with people without making them feel like shit. They knew Emma would tell them how it is, but in a supportive and loving way. 

She was also lucky in that her other friends she developed over the years never abandoned her the way Killian did. Ok, maybe she was still angry at him for that. She had other friends move away, and they never treated her the way Killian did. She still was in pretty good contact with Lily, a friend she made in the third grade who then moved when they were in the eighth grade. Lily understood her in a way no one else did. Both of them were essentially orphans. Yet, Lily wasn’t as luck as Emma had been. Emma was adopted, and Lily had bounced around foster homes their entire friendship. 

Elsa, who Emma had met last year on the other’s first day, understood Emma as well. Emma was pretty sure if she told Elsa about Killian, Elsa would understand Emma’s emotions.

Elsa and her younger sister Anna, who worked at the local day care, had been orphaned when their parents died in a car crash when they were younger. And while they were almost immediately adopted by their aunt, they still understood the fear that every orphaned child has: that eventually, everyone would leave them. 

That was the root of the reason Killian’s absence hurt her so much. She had been actively abandoned by her birth parents. Yes, she had the best adoptive parents a girl could ask for. Yes, she was so thankful for them and the love they gave her. But, in the back of her mind, she always wondered if she was worth it, since she clearly wasn’t worth it to her birth parents.

So of course, Emma found herself thinking the same thing sometimes when she thought about Killian. She knew it was far from the truth—that he would never purposefully abandon her. He would never purposefully walk away from their friendship without a good reason. Yet, when she felt depressed, she couldn’t help but think that way. 

For a brief moment, she did almost ask Elsa to talk. But, the blonde looked so excited to be talking about the upcoming school musical that she was helping to costume that Emma didn’t want to interrupt. 

She listened intently to the conversation the duo was having. She listened to how Elsa was worried that the kids would mess up the costumes, especially since she had some troublemaking boys in her sixth period home ec class. She listened to how she almost got into a fight with Mr. Gold, the principal, over budget. 

Belle blushed a bit when his name was mentioned. Emma had a feeling that Belle had a crush on their boss. A few times during staff meetings, Emma had caught Belle outright ogling him. It was actually kinda cute. Sure, Emma didn’t get along well with the guy, and sure most of the school called him “the Beast,” but Belle did seem to calm him down when she was in the room. If Emma had to guess, she would say that Gold had a crush on Belle as well. Why else would he insist on staff meetings in the library when the theater or cafeteria would work so much better? 

When lunch came to an end, Emma said goodbye to her friends and headed back to her classroom. She was now excited to get back to teaching. It didn’t dawn on her till that moment, but she hadn’t really thought about Killian when she was listening to Elsa and Belle. Thinking about someone else’s love life was actually helping her. 

_ That was the best thing about teaching in middle school, _ she thought sarcastically,  _ there was always a new love story _ . So that was her goal. She was gonna find some middle school drama to help distract her mind. 

Her next class was Henry’s. She was so thankful to see her son. While she may not be his adoptive mother yet, she saw him as her son. No matter what, she wanted him to feel that he belonged. 

“Hey kid, how’s it going?” she asked as the class settled into their movie. Henry’s class was a bit different than the rest of her classes. She saw them every day, but for longer. She had them for two periods, back to back. They were her advanced class. So, they had already reviewed the test. So, as a prize for actually doing well on the test and for finishing the review quickly earlier in the week, she let them watch  _ Jurassic Park _ . 

“Pretty good; it’s been a long day though. Steve and Nancy are fighting again, it’s all they do recently. Robin and Tilly got back together again, which is nice,” he started. Henry knew that Emma didn’t always like to hear about the gossip that was happening at Storybrooke middle school, but he also knew that some of the gossip could help her as a teacher. 

She listened to him for a few minutes. However, he realized that she wasn’t paying full attention, which was weird for her. 

“Mom, what’s going on?” he asked.

She smiled to herself. First, she loved that he called her mom. He normally didn’t do it in class, as he didn’t want to keep bringing attention to the fact he was the teacher’s kid. Secondly, she loved it cause even though the adoption didn’t go through, and even though they have hit roadblock after roadblock, he still say her in the same light she saw him. 

“It’s a long story,” she said.

“Well, I think we have time,” he smiled, nodding his head towards the class of students enthralled with the movie. 

She giggled a bit before beginning her story.

“Well, when I was really young I had a best friend named Killian. We were neighbors and Grandma was best friends with his mom, too. We did literally everything together. We even got married when we were five. But, abruptly, he had to move to Ireland. We tried to keep in touch for a while, but we lost contact. We’ve been friends on Facebook for a while and out of the blue, he messaged me and said he was back in town and wanted to meet for dinner. I said yes, and we are meeting tonight,” she explained. 

“And you’re nervous, right?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Henry could read her like a book. 

“A little; I haven’t seen him in over 20 years. I’m not too sure what to expect,” she answered. 

“Why did he move away?” 

“Well, I didn’t know at first, none of us knew. Well, we didn’t know. Grandma and the other adults did, they just didn’t tell us. Turns out his father had left them and his mother wanted to chase after him,” she recalled.

“That sucks. Why didn’t he ever come back?” he asked. Emma hated reliving that day and the emotions that surrounded his leaving. 

“I found out later that his mom got really sick after they moved. She passed away. I think that is why he stopped writing to me. He didn’t have her around to help him write the letters. I’m not really sure what happened to him. I friended him on MySpace and Facebook, but nothing on there answered my questions as to why he stayed in Ireland or what happened to his family,” she explained. 

“So, are you going to ask him that?” she loved how Henry read her mind.

“Actually, that is what I have been wrestling with all day,” she began. “I am not sure if I want to bring it up or not. I think I deserve an explanation, but at the same time, I want to just put the past behind us and be friends again.”

She knew most parents didn’t talk to their kids like this, but their relationship was different. She didn’t want to hide things from Henry. She didn’t want to force any type of relationship on him. Instead she thought she would let parenting come out through time and honest interactions. In truth, she was more like a big sister to him than a mother, but still had those mothering instincts with him. 

“Sounds confusing,” he added.

“It is. The whole thing is,” she agreed.

“Well, I would want to know why if it was me. Just ask him. What’s there to lose?” he pondered.

The kid was right. There wasn’t much to lose by her really laying it all on the line. It’s not like she and Killian had a real friendship to begin with. Sure, the foundation was there, the one they had built years earlier, but nothing else had been built. If she asked him and he refused to answer, or if he gave her some bullshit, then she wouldn’t be at a loss. 

“Well, I think that’s enough insight into my strange life,” she said. “Tell me about Violet.”

She saw Henry blush at the name. She knew bringing up his own schoolboy crush would help her a bit. She knew it would provide her with a distraction. 

It was a great distraction and before she knew it, the day was over. She had watched and listened as Henry tried not to go all gooey over his girlfriend who sat a few rows ahead of them, focus on the movie. Emma liked Violet enough—she was pretty, smart, independent, but respectful and kind. She just hoped that Violet wouldn’t hold him to Storybrooke. 

As it was with most small towns, many who grew up here, got boyfriends or girlfriends in middle school, stayed with them all of high school, and never left town because of them. Emma only left for college, and she was lucky. She didn’t want Henry to live that way, though; she wanted him to go out and explore the world. 

Now she only had to find a way to make it another three hours. 

She wasn’t planning on changing. She was already prepared for the date. While she may have decided that it was a date, she didn’t want to go all out and look like she had that idea. She wanted to be casual. She didn’t want to seem too eager or too excited, even though she was. 

When she got home, she thought of something that might calm her down.

She went straight for her bedroom, not stopping for her after school snack, aka a glass of wine. 

She bent down to the foot of her bed, felt around, and gave a tug. A large storage box came sliding towards her. Inside was a collection of diaries. She had been journaling since the year Killian stopped writing. 

Now, they weren’t traditional journals: she didn’t start each entry with  _ Dear Diary _ or finished them  _ xoxo,  _ but they were a collection of her thoughts. She wrote down quotes, and jotted down quick lists of things that happened that were worth her remembering. Some pictures were taped inside, too. 

It had been years since she looked at them. She still kept a journal, but she rarely reread them. She was inspired by her mother to keep them, actually.

_ “Who knows, maybe one day you can pass them along to your daughter and she can get to know you a little better, _ ” she heard her mother say in her head. 

She started with the very first one, a small little book that had a cover only a six year old girl could love. Inside were a collection of drawings and small notes, written in poor handwriting and even worse spelling. 

She smiled at the book as she continued to flip the pages. 

There were a couple of drawings of her and Killian, a few of the family dog, even more of princesses and unicorns, but what she settled on for a few moments was one she didn’t draw. 

It was an actual photo of herself and Alice. She didn’t even remember the photo being taken or that she had it. Emma must have only been two or three in the picture. She was sitting on Alice’s lap, with the woman’s arms wrapped around her small body. She was giving Emma a kiss on the cheek and Emma’s smile was so large that it was contagious.

As Emma continued to look at the photo her eyes filled with tears. 

She knew that without Alice, none of this would have happened. She would have never met Killian, never became friends with him. She would never have had a second mom, or someone who made her smile when she wasn’t getting along with her real mom. She would have never had some of the happiest moments in her life. 

For so long, she had been angry with her. She was angry at a woman for following the man she loved, when Emma would have done the same thing given the chance. 

In that moment, looking down at the picture, she knew she was no longer angry at Killian. If Emma had known about Alice all those years ago, or if the situation had been reversed, she probably would have done the same thing he did. 

She looked at the clock and noticed the time; if she wanted to be on time, she needed to leave within a few minutes. She didn’t want to keep Killian waiting, or herself; she had waited too long for this moment. 


	4. Chapter 4

Liam had never seen Killian so nervous. Killian had traveled the world, been to war zones, but never in his life did he feel so unsure of something. They were both off on Friday, and Liam watched as Killian paced around the house, changed his shirt at least five times, and burned the shit out of his bacon. 

Meeting Emma again after so many years was the scariest thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to meet her again—he definitely did want to see her again. It was the unknown that scared him shitless. He wasn’t sure where they stood.

When he left all those years ago, they were on good terms. Their promises to each other were fresh and held weight. However, as the years grew long, as time passed, those words meant less and less. Killian knew he’d fucked up by not writing to her. He knew he’d messed up by not making things right sooner. So, he was going into this dinner blind. 

He wasn’t sure how she would react to seeing him again. And truthfully, he wasn’t sure how he would react either. The couple of times he had caught glimpses of her in the past, he either ran scared or was frozen in his tracks. Now that he was actually going to see her, face to face, and be confronted with everything that had happened, he wasn’t sure what would happen.

In his mind, he hoped he would be brave. He saw himself standing tall, explaining to Emma just what he was feeling when his mom died. He saw himself being nothing but honest, hiding nothing, including his emotions. Yet, he also knew that talking about his mom was still difficult for him. 

He was so young when she died, and he didn’t quite comprehend what had happened. He didn’t quite grasp how serious the situation with his mom and dad was. He didn’t quite get that Liam would now be his parent and not his brother. He had been so confused that he never truly processed his emotions. So, whenever his mom was brought up, or his family for that matter, he got very quiet and sometimes a bit aggressive. He had been working on it the past few years, but he didn’t want his past reflecting poorly on Emma. He’d worked hard to be the man she deserved. 

He also wasn’t quite sure what he was even going to say. How do you tell the girl who was once your best friend that you were pretty sure you were in love with her even though you hadn’t spoken or seen each other in more than two decades?  _ You really don’t anyone who says that is a bloody fool and should be committed _ , he thought to himself.

He was pretty sure that was what he felt for Emma. There had to have been something between them, something that made him say no to almost every girl who had ever asked him out. There had to have been something that held him back from forming deep relationships with others. 

He had only one other major relationship outside of his “marriage” with Emma and that didn’t turn out well either, and something in the back of his mind told him it was because of Emma. 

So there he was, with a few hours to go until his fate would be cemented, sitting in Liam’s guest room, trying to find something to take his mind off of what might happen. Normally, he would find solace in a glass or bottle of rum, but he couldn’t do that tonight. He didn’t want anything clouding his mind. 

For a few moments, he thought he could just scroll through Facebook. Sometimes that was distraction enough, especially if he found a video that could keep his attention. But it didn’t seem to work today. 

He found himself rifling through his small suitcase. He really was surprised at how much crap he had collected over the years. He had brought three suitcases with him when he came to Storybrooke, in addition to the 10 large boxes he sent to Liam ahead of time. Then he had a computer bag that was stuffed full, plus his carry on suitcase.

That suitcase he brought on the plane held his most precious memories. A box was inside that he didn’t want to ever misplace. Sure, it took up more than half of the space in the suitcase, but he didn’t want to chance it by sending it to Liam ahead of time or placing it in checked luggage. Plus, he used this box like a crutch and he couldn’t believe he didn’t think to get the box out earlier. 

Emma used to be Killian’s support. She used to be all he needed to feel better, but when he left, he knew it would need to change. His mom became his new crutch, but then she died. It seemed to him that everyone important to him was leaving or not around. He couldn’t use Liam either, so instead, he used those old letters as his crutch. 

When things went to shit or life was just getting to him, he reread those old letters. Those letters got him through multiple deployments, multiple hard nights, and some pretty tough years. Sometimes, he wished that he would have sent those letters. Maybe, if he had, Emma and he would be closer than they were and who knows, maybe they would have gotten together. But, at the same time, he was quite glad he had them at the moment. 

The first letter in the box was the first one he had written after he stopped sending them to her. It was a letter he went back to time and time again, and kept adding to it. Once a year, on the anniversary of his mother’s death, he would add to the letter. It went from being a few lines, in scribbly, horribly spelled and written words, to being a couple of paragraphs in detailed discourse about how he was feeling each anniversary. 

Followed behind that letter were countless others. He started collecting these letters in an old shoe box. But, by the time he was twelve, four short years after he stopped sending them, he ran out of room and many of them were bent and stuffed. He rode his bike to the local post office and took a free box home with him. He laid quite a few of them out and under some large books Liam brought into the house to put them in pristine condition again. When he graduated and went into college, he invested in some storage boxes that would keep his letters perfect. One day, he did hope to show Emma the letters, but he also didn’t want to expose himself that way. 

That first letter he could read from memory. He didn’t even need to look at the first couple of pages to know exactly what they said, yet he picked up and read it.

_ Hey Emma, _

_ I wanted to say i’m sorry. I can’t write anymore. I’m sad all the time. Ma is gone and I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t know what to say anymore. I know you loved her, just as much as I did. I don’t want to make you sad by telling you. I don’t want to be sad anymore. Please understand. I still miss you. I still wish you were here; I just don’t want to make you sad. I don’t want to hurt you, and I know a letter would. I am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.  _

_ Love you, _

_ Killian _

_ Emma, _

_ It’s been a year since mom died. I’m not really sure what to do anymore. I know I haven’t talked to you in a while, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t deal with it. I don’t want to disappoint you or make you mad. I know anything I say to you now would. But, you are still my best friend.  _

_ Love you, _

_ Killian _

The next couple of years had the same writing. Each year he kept apologizing for not talking to her. He kept saying how he wished his mom was there, or that she was there. He kept saying how he didn’t want to hurt her with his news. He could almost hear the disappointment in his words. He could feel the embarrassment. He kept reading until he got until his current year, to the letter he wrote less than a year ago. They were coming up on the anniversary of his mother’s death and it was hitting him harder than normal. 

In the past couple of years, dealing with his mother’s death had been a bit easier. The Navy helped. He had started attending church on base. He wasn’t the most religious, and he questioned things quite often, but his mother loved church and was very religious, so he felt closer to her when he sat in the pews and listened to the sermons. He had also been spending a lot of time just walking around parks, taking in nature. His mother always said she felt closer to God when in nature. Since his mother loved it, he wanted to see if he felt closer to her there too. And he did. He felt his mother in every breeze and in every flower. 

_ Emma, _

_ It’s hard to believe it’s been so long since everything happened. There is still so much I wish I had done differently, yet at the same time, I know I did the right thing. Each year I tell you the same thing. I say how sorry I am that I lost touch, that I stopped writing, and each year I mean it. I wish I hadn’t stopped writing, but I know that I could have never told you exactly how I felt all those years ago when mom passed away. I could barely process my own feelings, let alone process how to tell you what I was feeling.  _

_ I know you loved my mom almost as much as I did. I haven’t been able to put myself through looking at all her treasured items, but I know there are just as many pictures of you in there as there are of me and Liam. She loved you like you were her own. That was part of the reason I could never get the courage to tell you she passed. I am sure by now you know. I know Liam talked to your mom when she passed, so I hope your parents told you. I hope you took it better than I did. I hope you know that she loved you and she is looking down on you, always your guardian angel.  _

_ It took me so many years to get over the anger I felt at the situation. To move away, right as mom fell ill, just for my deadbeat father was hard for me to deal with. Truthfully, I still blame him a bit for everything. I feel if he had stayed, or if she had let him go, that mom may still be here. I KNOW if we had stayed with you, stayed with your family, that mom would have been able to fight harder and longer than what she did. Just know, she did fight. She fought so hard. Looking back, I am so proud of her fight. She was so sick, yet she never gave up. She kept her faith and kept her happiness.  _

_ She used to talk about you all the time too, which was another reason I couldn’t bring myself to tell you she passed. The relationship you both had was something I was at times jealous of, and I didn’t want to be the one to break the news to you. I don’t remember a whole lot from that time, but I do remember a story she told me when she first told me she was sick. I could tell something was wrong. Earlier she had fought with my dad and I thought that maybe he was hitting her, but I was so off. She sat me down and began to tell me a story of a knight.  _

_ I didn’t know it then, but the story was about me. She spoke of a knight that had to leave home, even though he was devoted to a princess of his kingdom. You were that princess. We were so young, but I was so committed to you. At the time, it was just as a friend, but as the years how gone by, I see that those feelings have been deeper. You meant and mean so much to me, and I didn’t know how to survive without you for so long. In fact, I probably still don’t, as I still find myself writing to you, even though we haven’t truly spoken in years. But, let’s continue the story. The knight had to leave on a quest, even though he didn’t want to leave the princess behind. The knight’s quest was to take care of his family, who were in a battle-torn area of the kingdom. The knight was of course scared to leave, as he didn’t want to go to war. But, my mother told me that the knight knew that he had to go, because he knew that the princess would still be there for him when he returned. The princess and knight were always meant to be.  _

_ That story has gotten me to where I am today. It reminded me of what we once had. When days are hard, when the nights are long, when deployments get to be too much, I think of that story. I know that we may not be as close as we once were, but the foundation is still there. I know that one day our friendship will be stronger than ever. We just need to get back what we lost.  _

_ I still miss mom every day. It is still really hard most of the time. Other than you, she was the most important thing to me. For so long, I felt so alone. All of a sudden, I didn’t have anyone. Sure, Liam was around, but I couldn’t really talk to him. It was hard, he was so much older, and lost just as much as I did, but it was different. The person I really wanted to speak to was you, but I just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t something I could write. I couldn’t come up with the words. I couldn’t convey the feelings. I really wanted to actually talk to you, but I couldn’t talk about it at all. Liam tried to get me to talk, to anyone. He tried to get me to talk to him, which was just horrible. He tried to get me to talk to a relative, some distant aunt I have never really known. Of course that was just a train wreck. Then, it was a “professional” at school. He acted like he understood what I was going through, but he just came across pompous.  _

_ Nothing really worked, and it made me feel even more alone. It made the feelings I had had all along just more righteous. I had never wanted to leave Storybrooke. Of course, I keep saying it was because of you, but it was more than that too. Storybrooke was everything I had known. It was truly home. I felt alive there, understood, and safe. Ireland was different. I didn’t feel alive there. Things seemed grey and dull. No one understood me once mom died. Liam tried, but it wasn’t the same. Even our friends at school understood me better than he did. Yes, he’s my big brother and I have always looked up to him, but understanding each other wasn’t easy. I didn’t feel safe there. It wasn’t anything like, I was worried about my dad, but I was just worried that someone else was gonna die. I was worried that someone else was going to leave. In one year, I had lost you, my mom and my dad. I was worried I would lose Liam, or truly lose you.  _

_ So, again, here I am writing to you. Writing in hopes that one day, I can get the balls to tell you all of this. Once a year, I always feel a bigger twinge of regret. Regret that we lost touch, regret that I let my fears get the best of me, regret that each year I let time pass without talking to you.  _

_ When we do talk again, which I know we will again if not soon, then later, I hope I will be able to tell you all of this. I hope that I will be able to say it all. I hope that I can make it up to you one day. To be the knight my mom thought I was. One day, I promise, things will be different and I will be able to say all of this to you.  _

_ Love always, _

_ Killian. _

He could remember when he wrote that. He didn’t believe that within a year, he would be on the verge of making his wishes come true. He read the last couple of paragraphs again, seeing his promises he made to her. Yes, he may not have actually promised Emma these things, but he felt he did. He felt he really did make the promise to the real Emma. It was what he felt each time he wrote to her. It felt like he was actually talking to her. He knew it was a little batty, but it helped. 

He looked up at the clock and saw that he needed to leave or he would be late, and he didn’t want to start off this new relationship with Emma on the wrong foot. He had decided that this was exactly that. It was a new start, a new relationship. He was going to really to prove to Emma that he was her knight in shining armor and they were meant to be. Yes, time may have passed, and sure, they didn’t end things well, but they were meant to be. 

He didn’t even realize that he had gotten in his car and drove all the way to Granny’s. He was too wrapped up in pumping himself up for seeing Emma. After reading that letter, he knew just what he needed to do. He knew he would need to do something to show her just how sorry he was and just how committed he was now to developing their relationship back up. 

He parked outside and saw the yellow bug he saw her driving a few days ago. He could have sworn that it was his mom’s bug. He didn’t remember much from his childhood, but there were certain memories that were burned into his mind. 

He looked at the clock and saw that he must have sped to the diner, cause he still had ten minutes before he needed to be inside. And while he was ready to go in, he was frozen to the seat. His nerves were suddenly overwhelming. He was truly scared of what might happen. He had been playing himself, thinking that his nerves would go away when the time got closer. He was a fool for thinking that the letters would help him truly get over all the fears he had.

His phone rang in his pocket.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Get out of the car and go inside little brother,” came his brother’s voice from the other end. 

“How did you know,” he asked, not even bothering to say his normal comeback.

“I know you, Killian. You may have seemed confident when you left the house, but I knew by the time you arrived, you would be scared shitless,” he explained. 

“I don’t know what happened. I was so excited when I left, I was pumped, but now I don’t know if I can go through with this,” he said, wariness laced his voice.

“You psyched yourself up too much. You always have. You were the same way when you graduated and went to OCS. You got on the plane all confident and cocky, and by the time you arrived in DC you were texting me that you thought you made a mistake. You are in your head too much,” his brother rationalized. 

“I can’t help it. It’s been years. I mean what if she doesn’t forgive me? What if everything I thought was just a dream?” he questioned.

“Dude, stop it. You will never know unless you get out of that car and go inside. It’s just Emma. I am sure she is still the same girl you once knew. Sure, time has passed and she’s grown up, but in the end she is still that girl you knew. Remember, a man who doesn’t fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.” His brother’s words resonated deep.

He was right; the girl waiting inside was just Emma. Some part of her was still the same girl he had married under that old oak tree. Time may have passed, but their friendship could stand that test. And, if he wasn’t willing to go in and talk to her, if he wasn’t willing to really try and fix what he had done, then he deserved a life without Emma and a life that was filled with emptiness. 

“Thanks, brother; I’ll talk to you later,” he said.

“Go get’em,” he heard his brother say as they ended the conversation. 

He took a big breath and got out of the car. He walked inside with a purpose. He kept chanting to himself,  _ It’s just Emma, It’s just Emma.  _ His nerves waved each time he said it. He knew when he walked in the door he wouldn’t see the five year old girl he had once kissed under the oak tree, but thinking that a part of that girl would be waiting at their old booth got him through the door. 

The bell jingled in an all too familiar way. It pulled him to the present. His eyes focused quickly to the back of the diner. The other senses of his body fell away. They were still there, in the back of his mind, but they weren’t the focus. Any other day, he would have relished in the smell of the diner, like nothing had changed and the same oil was being used for the deep fryer. He would have taken in each and every word the patrons were saying. Instead, his eyesight trained to the back of the room and narrowed in on what he was most nervous about. 

He could see blonde hair and a red leather jacket. The hair was flowing perfect. The color stood out and it looked like it had its own lighting. There was a girl standing at the booth talking to her who looked up when he walked in. Killian didn’t really take her in, but could see Emma react to what she said. 

Suddenly the woman in front of him took a very deep breath in. Almost like she was preparing herself for what was to come. Maybe she felt the same nerves that were racing through his veins. 

He was glad her back was to him. It gave him a moment to gain his composure and turn his thoughts off in order to walk to her. The woman at the booth smiled at him as she turned to walk away. 

It felt like hours passed as he walked towards the farthest booth. Each step echoed in his ears. With each step, his fate and destiny were getting closer and closer. More details of the woman who stayed seated with her back to him came out. He could see the depth of the red of the jacket she wore. He could see the highlights in her hair. He could see the different colors and how they interacted with each other. It was mesmerizing. He could see the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed in and out. 

As he reached the booth, he turned to finally take in the beauty that sat before him and looked fate and destiny right in the eye. And what he saw didn’t disappoint.

“Hello, love; long time no see.”


	5. Chapter 5

Emma was never late for anything. Ever. It had been drilled in her mind since she was a little girl. If you arrived early to an event, you were on time. If you arrived on time, you were actually late, and if you arrived late, it was like you never showed up at all. 

However, Emma was sure she was “late” in her own time. Normally, she would arrive somewhere around 45 minutes early. But in all her excitement and nerves, she arrived at Granny’s thirty minutes before six PM. It actually threw her for a loop. She felt off a bit. She was pretty sure it was also the nerves. 

Granny’s calmed her a bit; when she walked in, she was engulfed in the familiar smells and sounds of the diner. She took a deep breath and walked back to the booth that had been hers since she was a few months old. 

Her mother and Alice used to come to Granny’s every week. More like a few times a week, actually. They always sat in the back of the diner, in the very last booth. It was close to the jukebox and bathrooms, which was needed with such young kids that they totted along. Granny even had a pack and play that the moms used to put the kids in. 

So, since she was young, Granny’s diner and that back booth felt like home. It was one of the main reasons she had chosen it when Killian wanted to meet. Granny’s made her feel comfortable. It made her feel safe. 

“Hey Emma, grilled cheese and onion rings coming right up,” Ruby said to her as she passed by.

“Actually Ruby, hold off,” Emma said in a somewhat meek voice. 

Ruby stopped in her tracks. She turned to stare down one of her best friends. She put the pot of coffee she had been carrying down on the counter and walked back over to Emma. 

Ruby had been friends with Emma since the first grade. In fact, Ruby was the first friend Emma made after Killian left. It took a while for Ruby to break through the walls Emma had built up, but when she did, she was fiercely loyal and supportive. Turns out, Emma and Ruby had more in common than they knew. Ruby’s mother had felt like she wasn’t a good mother and couldn’t handle her pretty rebellious daughter, so she came to Storybrooke to live with her granny. So Ruby felt like she had been given up on, in a similar way to what Emma sometimes felt towards her birth parents. Her friendship with Ruby was different than her friendship with Mary Margaret and David. Ruby was the wild child. She had spent their college years roaming the country and partying. Ruby was never afraid to say just what she was thinking and she definitely wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted. When Emma needed someone to whip her into shape or give her the truth in a way that wasn’t sugar-coated, she went to Ruby. When she needed someone to lift her up or when she needed a more peaceful explanation, she went to Mary Margaret. 

“What’s wrong?” Ruby asked leaning over the table.

Emma had sat down with her back to the entrance. She didn’t want to see the exact moment when Killian walked in. Her heart couldn’t take it. 

“I’m just meeting someone,” she said simply. 

“What do you mean you are meeting someone? Emma Swan, are you on a date? Oh my god, you are on a date, why didn’t you tell me? Spill!” Ruby’s spitfire personality was coming out in her rapid-fire questions. To most people, it would be intimidating or a bit obnoxious, but Emma was used to it. 

“Ruby, calm down,” Emma began, “I am meeting Killian.”

Ruby’s eyes grew wide at the recognition of the name. Out of all of her friends, Ruby really saw how hurt Emma was when Killian stopped writing. She saw it first-hand. 

“What?” Emma could see the shock in her friend’s face as well as hear it in her voice. 

“Yeah, well, I would have told you earlier, but I know you’ve been busy,” Emma started. Ruby not only ran one of the hottest night clubs in the area, she helped run her grandmother’s diner. On top of it all, she was going to school for her business degree, plus she kept up a relationship with one of the deputies in town, Graham, whom she met during her party years. She brought the Irishman back to town with her and they’ve been attached at the hip ever since. They may not be in a relationship like Mary Margaret and David; but what the two of them had worked for them.

“Whatever, you suck, get on with the story,” she replied. 

It relaxed Emma a bit to listen to Ruby. She knew the woman would never be truly mad at her, and her sarcasm made Emma smile. 

“Well, he messaged me earlier in the week; he’s moved back to town and wants to get together, to catch up is what he said,” Emma smiled nervously.

“And you said yes?” Ruby asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought maybe I needed to get closure. I needed to see if that friendship was real or just something I made up in my head,” she explained. 

“You lasted longer than I would have. If I was you, I would have called him years ago and demanded answers. You’re right though—you do need closure and you deserve to get some answers,” Ruby added, reaching to take Emma’s trembling hand in hers.

“I just don’t know, Rubes, what if things are so different? What if he hates me?” Emma questioned, finally getting to the root of her fears. 

The bell on the door jingled and Emma felt Ruby squeeze her hands.

Emma took in a deep breath, her shoulders tensing beneath her leather jacket that she had left on. Her armor was up. She didn’t turn at all, not willing to face the door. She was almost positive the person who just walked through the door was Killian. 

“Damn,” she heard Ruby curse under her breath. “You got this Emma, you’ve waited years for this, so don’t worry. You got this,” she continued. 

She gave Emma’s hand another squeeze before letting go. 

“By the way, he looks damn good,” Ruby smiled as she turned to walk away. 

_ Thanks a fucking lot Ruby, that didn’t make me any less nervous _ she thought to herself. In fact, it really made her anxious. His looks were the least of her worry. She was still so concerned about what Killian might say to her, how their conversation might go, and what this all might lead to. The constant fear of the unknown is what was detrimental for her. 

Emma could hear the rise and fall of what sounded like dress shoes. It was like time stood still, while at the same time moved at the speed of light. It was disorienting how her nerves were picking up. With each stomp of the shoe, with each click on the floor, her heart beat faster and faster. Her breathing, though, stayed deep. It was almost as if she was holding her breath in anticipation. 

In those few moments, she was feeling every single emotion known to man. She was feeling regret, and not just about the meeting, but about every single feeling she had ever had towards Killian Jones. She was feeling excitement and a bit of restlessness over the man walking towards her, she couldn’t wait to see him again after all these years. Yet, there was a feeling of dread as well, over all the questions that surrounded the meeting. She knew if they had kept in better touch, the meeting wouldn’t have set her off the way it did. 

All too soon, yet after what felt like a century, Killian Jones was standing right next to her.

“Hello, love; long time, no see,” he said. His voice was unexpected. His accent was still there, but a bit heavier than when he was a kid. Of course, his voice was lower than when he was five, but there was a familiar tone behind it. 

She was almost sure her jaw dropped when she really took in the man in front of her. His hair was a bit shaggy, probably not within regulation, but framed his face perfectly. It made him look just a bit moody, yet drop dead sexy. His bright blue eyes were more vibrant than ever. They tore into her more than she ever expected them to. Even though they were intense, there was something more behind them. Emma couldn’t put her finger on it—was it pain? Was it fear? She wasn’t sure. It didn’t really matter because the rest of his face pulled her away. 

He had a slight scruff. There was a little bit of red trickled throughout the beard that accented his jaw and mouth perfectly. She wanted to reach out and touch it, to feel the prickle of each hair as her hands rolled along his cheeks. She could see that his jaw was chiseled beneath the hair and she was stunned at how good he looked. He had definitely grown into his body and face; his ears didn’t look too big, compared to what they were like as a kid. 

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” he laughed, an intoxicating and exciting sound.

She could do nothing but just keep staring at him. It was surreal to have him standing right in front of her like no time had passed at all. She was staring at someone who was just as much of a stranger as any other person on the street, but at the same time, it felt right. The instant her eyes met his, it felt like the worlds aligned and were made right. 

“Come here,” he said, reaching his hand out to her. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up in expectancy. She was sure he was going to give her hand shake as she reached it out to place it in his. 

There was a slight shockwave that went through her as her hand touched his for the first time over twenty years. The connection that sparked between them melted away all of her fears. All of a sudden, the clasp of their hands and his muscles pulling her up and out of the booth abated all those emotions that were pumping through her veins only moments before.

She couldn’t remember what she was worried about in the first place as Killian steadied her and pulled her in for a hug. 

Normally, Emma wasn’t a hugger. She preferred her own personal space and really didn’t allow people to just come in it. Only real friends were allowed to pop that bubble. In any other instance, Emma would have recoiled from the person in question; but as Killian’s arms wrapped around her back and hips, she felt herself relax into him. It was like they were transported back in time to when they would stand under that oak tree. 

She hadn’t felt that good in a very long time. No one had calmed her down as quickly as he had done by simply pulling her into a hug. It felt so natural and right. 

He was taller than she thought. His pictures didn’t do his height justice. He wasn’t super tall, but taller than she expected. Maybe it was because she was still in a way picturing the young boy she once knew, maybe it was because it was something she hadn’t even thought of before, either way, she fit under his chin perfectly. She also began to think that she knew she would fit perfectly next to him when she wore heels, which wasn’t often, but it was nice to know. 

They probably spent longer than needed wrapped in the embrace, but they had so many years and hugs to make up for. 

“Emma,” she heard him sigh. There was something in his voice that ached when he said her name, almost like it was in pain from not actually saying it in such a long time. 

She didn’t respond, didn’t want to break the little bubble that they were in. Sure, she felt better now that he was actually here in front of her. And yes, he did calm her, but she still didn’t want to get down to the nitty gritty of things. Somehow, all the pain and suffering that she had dealt with for years before, which was a symptom of his leaving, disappeared. She was no longer mad, no longer upset, no longer in need of anything from him. She was just happy he was here, standing there, holding her. She just wanted to stay wrapped in his arms, where the past and present collided perfectly. 

His hands were softly moving along her back, consoling her a bit. It was like he instinctively knew that she needed him to help her through all of this. She couldn’t tell if he was a nervous as her or if he was just playing it off cool. 

“Alright Em, you gonna order now or not?” she heard a voice from nearby. Of course Ruby was going to interrupt their moment. She knew though, if Ruby hadn’t stepped in, in her own Ruby way, they would have stayed entangled. It was time they entered the real world and really get to see each other. 

“Ummm, right,” she said, pulling away from Killian and returning to her seat. She immediately missed the pressure of him, and wanted the trailing of his fingers on her back to continue. 

He sat down directly across from her. 

“The usual, Ruby,” she whispered.

“I’ll get the same,” Killian replied as well, a slight grin on his face. 

Emma stared at him. Confusion laced her face, and he laughed slightly at it. 

“Do you even know what you are getting?” she asked, a little bit annoyed with the cockiness and laughter that he was depicting. 

“I’m pretty sure I just ordered a grilled cheese, with the bread burnt just a bit, with an extra side of onion rings and a hot chocolate with a sprinkling of cinnamon,” he said with conviction. 

She was stunned. Stunned that he remembered the things he did. She wondered what else he could remember about their childhood. Emma had been ordering the same thing since she was five. Most people’s palates would have changed over the years, changing their favorite food or order at a restaurant, but not Emma. 

“You did,” she smiled at him, her annoyance melting away a bit. 

Awkward silence fell around the table though after her statement. Neither one of them were sure what to say or how to start things. It was very weird. They knew each other, or at least knew some things, so they didn’t need to go through the initial getting-to-know-you stage of first dates.  _ Was it even a first date? _ Emma thought. Yet, they hadn’t seen each other in so long that maybe they did need to do that. That was why there was such a bizarre and weird pause in their conversation. 

To her, it was strange that she would feel so comfortable hugging the man who sat across from her, but at the same time feel so odd talking to him. 

“So,” he began just as she started to speak. “This is awkward.”

She had only gotten out the word “I” before he finished.

“Yeah, it is,” she said instead of what she was going to say.

“Listen, Emma, I just wanted to say,” he tried to start before she cut him off. She knew what was coming and truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear it. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted, the confidence behind her voice wavering. 

“Yes love, I do. I am so sorry. Truly. I am sorry I stopped writing. I am so sorry I ghosted. I never wanted to harm you in any way, yet I did. I broke the trust we had and ruined our friendship, all because of my inability to get past what happened to me. It was wrong of me,” his voice trembled a bit with his confession.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she tried to say, but he waved her off.

“I do, though. You were my best friend, Emma. You were my anchor and rock for so long, and I just threw it all away because I was a scared little boy who didn’t know how to process my feelings,” he declared.

She was at a loss of what to say. She could see the pain and sadness behind his eyes, and they pulled her into him. It was like she was actually feeling exactly what he was feeling, all because of the way his eyes dug into her soul.

“I’m not sure you know, but ma died about a year after we left to go back to Ireland,” he started again.

“Killian, stop, you don’t need to say anything else, I get it,” but he wouldn’t let her continue. 

“Emma, please, you deserve an explanation, you deserve to hear just what happened and why,” he began, a look of pleading crossing his face.

She really didn’t want to have him explain what happened. Especially not when she saw the heartache swirling in the blues of his irises. She didn’t want him to have to relive all those devastating memories. She didn’t care anymore. But the imploring look he was giving her softened her stance. And, she knew when she looked back on this time; she would want to know exactly what happened. She didn’t want to be lying in bed that night, away from his presence, and be pissed at herself for not finding out why. 

“Alright,” she conceded.

“When we left Storybrooke, I wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen. I never recovered from leaving home when my ma told me she had cancer, then I hadn’t recovered from that news when my dad said he was leaving for good, nothing got better, then ma died. I was so depressed and alone,” he accounted and Emma’s heart fell into her stomach. The sadness in his voice was crushing and instinctively she reached out to hold his hand. 

“I stopped writing because I didn’t want to have to tell you. I didn’t want to be the person to tell you about ma. I know you loved her and I couldn’t be the person to break it to you. Also, I had lost everything. First, with the move, I lost you, I lost our friendship, and I was broken. Then ma got sick, and I could see her slipping away, nothing I could do to stop it. Then dad left, which in the end was a blessing, but still something that left me broken. Finally, I lost my brother. Sure, he was still there, but he was no longer just my brother—he was my mother and father now, too, so our relationship changed. I hadn’t been able to recover from all of those issues, and I didn’t think I could stand to lose one more thing. And something told me that I would eventually lose you, too, so I spared myself. I know you didn’t deserve that, and for that I’m truly sorry,” he finished. 

Emma could feel the broken child in Killian, the small boy who never recovered from the trauma he’d been dealt at such an early age. 

“I’m sorry, too, you know,” her voice steadily said, admitting something she didn’t think she would. “I didn’t know your mom died until I was sixteen. My mom and dad were making a slide show for my party and came across a photo of me and you that your mom took. My mom didn’t actually say what happened, but I understood enough. It wasn’t long after that when I found you on MySpace. I should have reached out sooner.”

She knew that he wasn't the only one to blame in their friendship’s rollercoaster ride. She didn’t try, just as much as he stopped writing. 

“No, love, you shouldn’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong, I should have reached out to you as well,” and Emma couldn’t help but smile a bit at his willingness to fall on the sword and take all the blame. 

“How about this,” she offered, “we are both sorry and we both promise to not let it happen again.”

She watched him as her words settled in his mind. She watched as a large smile crossed his face, a brightness returning to his eyes.

“You mean you forgive me for my ungentlemanly like behavior and extreme misguidance?” He asked.

“Of course; you’re my best friend, after all,” she smiled back at him.

“Aye, and you have always been mine. Even when we weren’t speaking, you were always my best friend, Swan.”

“Alright then,” she agreed, and just in time, too, as their order had appeared along with Ruby carrying them. 

“Two grilled cheeses, onion rings and hot chocolates. Enjoy your meal, children,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. It was something she had done for years with Emma. She always made fun of her for getting something that should have been on the kid’s menus, but Emma didn’t care. What she had was comfort food, and was perfect for her reunion.

“Thanks, Ruby,” she called after her friend, who just waved a hand in acknowledgement.

“So, Swan, tell me, what has your life been like?” Killian restarted the conversation.

“Jumping right in there, are we?” she responded. 

“I have a lot to catch up on,” he winked as he took a bite of a greasy onion ring.

“That you do, Jones,” she agreed, “well, where to start?”

“Anywhere; tell me what you would tell a date,” he suggested. 

Emma felt shivers go down her spine as she almost choked on a piece of grilled cheese as the words he said resonated. She had been thinking this was a date, but to hear him say it—for him to even think about it—was shocking. She also knew that while she thought it was a date, it wasn’t a real date-date; there would be no passionate kiss in a doorway at the end of the night, no awkward conversations about if there would be a second date. No, this date was going to be just a one-time thing. 

“Well, that’s gonna be a bit hard for me,” she began, making Killian cock an eyebrow at her statement. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve been on a date.”

“Me too, actually,” he confessed. “So how about just start from when I left.” 

The last part of his statement still had a twinge of guilt and remorse to it. She wondered how long they would both still some regret over their past. 

“Well, like I told you in one letter, that’s when I met Ruby over there,” she began, gesturing towards her friend who now looking at her bending over to pick up a napkin off the floor, had to agree with Granny that sometimes she could tone down her wardrobe.

“Nothing much really happened until high school. Nothing much ever really happens here, you know. Mom and Dad put me in dance for a while, and that was a waste of time, I still don’t have rhythm. They put me in softball after that, and that kept me pretty busy. I joined the varsity softball team freshman year.”

“No boyfriend?” he asked, trying to be nonchalant about it. 

“There was one guy, Neal, but it wasn’t really a relationship. At least not in his eyes. We dated my junior and senior year, but yeah. It didn’t go anywhere. But it did make for a funny story in college,” she recounted.

“Tell me,” he almost demanded, a slice of grilled cheese close to his mouth waiting to be devoured. 

“Well, I caught him cheating on me with my physiology lab partner, in my car, in the school parking lot. I literally leaned in through the window, said he better clean it up, punched him in the nose, and walked back into school. It was during lunch, too, so lots of people saw. I remember a few people coming up to me and telling me how badass I was,” she recalled. 

He laughed at her story, never losing the interaction with her. He was listening so intently to her life and story. 

“Sounds like a douche to me; I’m glad you hit him,” he said.

“You should be; it was your mom’s car, actually.”

“I knew that bug looked familiar,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I guess when you all moved, your mom asked my parents to look after the house and the cars. Maybe she was hoping to come back eventually. However, about three months later, the house was up for sale, but the car moved to our driveway. For my sixteenth birthday, they gifted the bug to me. I’ve had him ever since; Fezzik even went with me to college,” she chattered.

“Fezzik?” he inquired.

“You know my love for The Princess Bride. Plus, your mom loved the movie, too. She always said Fezzik was her favorite character. He was strong and sturdy, dependable, but lovable and kind all at the same time - just what any girl should look for in a guy, my mom told me is what she used to say. So I thought it fitting,” she smiled at the memory.

“It’s a fitting name then. So, how far did Fezzik travel then?” he questioned.

“All the way to Virginia. I received a softball scholarship from them, so it was a no brainer.” She continued, “It was there that I met Mary Margaret. I met her in orientation; she was actually one of the only people to talk to me that day. Next thing I knew, I had a new roommate and a new best friend. She even followed me here to Storybrooke when we graduated.”

“I’m glad you found someone,” he said, not saying much, which told Emma he wanted her to continue on. 

“Well, I started off thinking that I would go into social work—you know, help kids who are in the system; but thankfully that didn’t happen. I happened to take a class with Mary Margaret during what is called Spring Term; a three-week intensive class. It was a practicum in education. We were placed in schools and told to sink or swim. I was so nervous, thinking I had made a huge, huge mistake, but by the end of the day, I knew I had found what I was always meant to do.”

He was staring at her so intently. His eyes never left her. He was enthralled. He had even stopped eating to just listen to her. She was surprised by the act. No one had ever watched her, listened to her, the way he was doing right now. She had been on a few dates in college, and not one of the guys were ever as interested in what she was saying. Killian’s eyes played his emotions during each sentence she spun. 

“Wow Emma, that is amazing,” he added, but again, the words felt more like an encouragement for her to keep talking. It was weird and foreign for her to talk this much, but something inside of her wanted to make sure Killian knew everything. She wanted it to be like she had never lost her best friend, like he had been by her side through it all. 

“Every day that I have been in a classroom since then has been amazing. You know how people say to find a job that makes you feel like you're not really working; well, that is what teaching is for me. I never feel like I’m actually working when I’m in my classroom.”

“Well, love, you seem to have everything together. I’m not going to lie, I’ve looked at your Facebook quite a lot, and you always seemed so happy; but to hear you talk about your life, the more I see you here, the more I know you really are happy. So maybe what happened in the past was meant to happen, all so that you could have this wonderful life,” he concluded, a tone hinting that it was something he truly believed. She had to believe it as well.

Maybe it was like the butterfly effect. If Killian had never left; then Emma’s life would have been a thousand perfect different. 

“Alright then, Jones, you know all about what my life has been like,” she said in between bites of the food she hadn’t quite gotten around to eating, “so, tell me about yours.”

“I have to admit that mine may be a little more dramatic and less wonderful than yours, love,” he lamented. 

“I would still love to hear about it,” she almost begged.

“Alright, settle in then, Swan, you’re in for a bumpy ride,” he teased and began his tale. 

“So I’ll spare you the really horrid details of the year before my ma passed. But, the not so bright highlights are: my dad was a drunken asshole who said he wished he had never had us or been with ma and left her right as she was beginning chemo. Ma died and things went from bad to what I thought was worse. Liam was almost old enough to take over custody of me, but there was two months left till his eighteenth birthday, so they sent me to live with my dad’s aunt, Cruella,” he blanched.

“Wait, I’m sorry, Cruella is her name?” Emma tried to hold back the laughter in her voice. 

“Actually yes, I don’t know why or how, but that was the woman’s name. Truly,” he said with a smile to his voice, clearly understanding the humor behind his words. “But, at the time, I didn’t find the name very funny. She was a ghastly old woman, who looked like she was going to blow a lung at any moment. She smelled of urine and smoke, smoked a good three packs a day, and had a very strange obsession with her dogs. But, at least I had a house and a room. And, unlike some of the other kids I’ve known who’ve ended up in the same situation; she didn’t beat me or abuse me. She was just indifferent to my presence. 

“That sounds horrible, though,” Emma agreed. 

“It was, but it was only for a short time. Liam graduated and turned eighteen, so he legally adopted me and moved me back home. We lived in the same apartment ma had moved us into. Liam gave up his dreams to take care of me. He got a job working at a construction group nearby, that actually paid a decent wage, but I could tell he was angry about the whole situation. I mean, I can’t imagine, losing your family then being told you were your brother’s only hope and hero. I don’t think I could ever pay him back for the things he has done for me, ya know? What do you get for someone that gave up their dreams to just take care of you?” he wondered.

Emma couldn’t do anything by shrug her shoulders. It was the same feeling she felt towards the Swans at times. How could she ever pay them back for taking her into their home at such a young age and raising her as if she was truly their flesh and blood child, bringing her up to be the person she was today? They were burdened with all of her bills, spent thousands of dollars over the years. She never could truly give them back what they gave to her. It was one of the reasons she wanted to foster and adopt - because it was the only thing she could think of. 

“Liam took care of me for the next 11 years. He went to every school function, was at every soccer game, and made every parent/teacher conference. He wanted to make sure that I had a normal childhood, since the first couple of years weren’t so normal. When I graduated high school, Liam decided to return to the States. He had kept in touch with his girlfriend here, and he found a great job running a construction company; that he took the opportunity. Since, as he so lovingly and sarcastically put it, he didn’t have his younger brother sucking his teet anymore.”

Emma snorted into her hot chocolate at the saying. It had been just as long since she had seen or talked to Liam, but she remembered him fondly. He wasn’t the traditional big brother - he really protected Killian and didn’t make fun of him, in the way most older brothers did. His joking was always clear as day and was always loving; Killian always hated being called the little brother, he prefered younger, but Liam always called him little. She could see him now, joking around with Killian and saying exactly that.

Killian composed himself, as he had joined in on the laughter that Emma was possessing and began his story once again.

“College was amazing for me. I went to Uni in Dublin, taking classes in engineering and history. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do at the time, and those classes attracted me. During my senior year, I took an engineering class that was all about ships and boats, and it hit me. The Navy would be perfect for me - plus it would allow me to travel, something that had always interested me. So, after graduation, I applied to the Navy and their Officer’s school,” he recounted. 

“Was it hard?” Emma asked.

“In a way, but not as hard as I thought it would be. Turns out having a drunk for a dad prepares you for getting screamed at and called names. I also knew that it wasn’t forever, and soon I would be traveling around and doing something that meant something. My first station was in California. Immediately, I was sent on deployment. I got to travel the South Pacific and it was amazing.” 

“Really? What was your favorite destination?” she probed. 

“It’s hard to say. You know, I’ve been in for around seven years and been to so many places. I really enjoyed Germany; I was there for a month doing training and auditing. I also really enjoyed Thailand - it was the first place our ship stopped during my first deployment. But, I would have to say that India was my favorite place. It was the first time the US had stopped a ship there in years, and we were met with such warm welcome, plus the food was amazing,” he added, with a light air in his voice. 

“I’m jealous; I never got to travel anywhere, other than a Spring Break trip with Mary Margaret to Mexico during our junior year,” she added.

“Well, then you’ve been somewhere I haven’t,” he smiled.

From there, their conversation flourished. The anxiety and apprehension that could be felt at the start of the meal had completely vanished. The air surrounding them was now free and lighthearted. 

They spent the next almost two hours talking about anything and everything. They talked about Liam and Mary Margaret, they talked about their favorite memories over the past twenty-some years. They talked about Emma’s classes and Killian’s duties at his command. Time passed so quickly, and she knew the night was about to come to an end. She had wished they had done lunch instead of dinner so she could have more time just talking to him. 

“So love, is there anything else that we should discuss?” he asked. 

“There is one other thing,” she spoke, knowing she had to tell him something else before they could move forward with whatever friendship they were going to have. 

“And what is that?” he wondered.

“Ummm….” she wasn’t quite sure how to get out the words. But, he told her to treat this like it was a first date, and it was definitely something that one should speak about on a first date.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Swan?” he reached across and grabbed her hand. He skirted his fingers across the back of her hand, sending the hairs on her arm and neck upright. 

“I also have a son,” she blew out in a rapid fire of words. She watched as Killian’s face went from understanding and caring to bewildered and confused.

“Oh my God,” he responded in a state of shock. Emma could sense that it wasn’t so much of a state of horrified shock, but more of disbelief. Emma did recall that Killian mentioned he had been watching her Facebook. Emma never posted about Henry there. She knew that it could jeopardize the adoption; but at the same time, what Henry and she had was special and she didn’t need what were essentially strangers weighing in on her personal life. So of course, he would come as a shock to him. 

“Yeah,” she added, unsure of what to really say to his response. 

“When did you have him?” he questioned, finally looking up to Emma. She thought she saw a twinge of sadness behind his eyes. The blue that she noted before was no longer as bright and energetic. 

“I didn’t actually,” she returned, “Actually; Henry isn’t even my son yet.”

A look of sheer and utter confusion crossed his face. 

“Let me start over again. About two years ago, I was volunteering at a local group home—the one I would have been sent to, actually. I met a young boy named Henry there. He had been bounced around the system since he was abandoned at a fire station. He isn’t a bad kid, very inquisitive and bright, always searching for an answer, and has a huge imagination - so I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been taken in somewhere yet. Over the course of a few weeks, I applied to become a foster mom. The second I was approved, I took Henry in. I’m currently trying to officially adopt him.”

“Emma, I’m not really sure what to say,” he started, but only pausing for a second. “I think it’s absolutely incredible that you are opening your home and heart to this young lad. You were always a caring and loving person; it just makes sense that you would do this.”

“You seem relieved almost,” she pondered, almost redacting her words as soon as she stated them. 

“Relieved isn’t really the word, Swan, but more or less it’s what I feel. I was worried there for a minute,” he admitted. 

“Really?” she questioned.

“Well, yeah; I was a bit worried that maybe there was a special man in your life,” he confessed. 

“Why would that worry you?” she asked, with a look of questioning. Yet, at the same time, Emma had a spark lit. Did Killian really just admit to being a bit jealous that someone else may have been in her life, in an intimate way? 

“Do you not remember our promise?” 

“We made a lot of promises, Killian,” she sighed, with a bit of anger in her voice. He had made promises in the past he broke, while there were others that he never could complete. 

“I promised that one day I would come home, here to Storybrooke, and marry you for real,” he said, with a bit of apprehension in his voice. 

“Wait, you mean you want to actually follow through on that?” she said flabbergasted. 

“Maybe,” he said, leaning down on one hand, resting his chin on it and giving her a slight playful smile and a wink.

She thought about it for a second, trying to see if she could figure out if he was joking or not. She couldn’t tell, though; his face held something that said he was serious, but the way he was sitting and the way he talked about it said he was joking as well. 

“Swan, look at me,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts. She hadn’t realized that a few minutes had passed and she had been staring down at her empty plate. There were so many things going through her mind. She had just gotten comfortable with Killian back in her life, finally let go of all the pain she had felt for years over him, the anxiety that had been running rampid in her system was finally subsiding, all to be met with bewilderment when he surprised her with that question. Her brain began to play ping pong around what her answer might be. 

She looked into those blazing eyes of his.

“I was kidding, love,” he said, but his voice and face were not as animated or excited as before. 

She just nodded.

“Well, I think that ended our evening,” he concluded. 

He looked just as she felt - deflated. They had started the night off awkward, then fell into a wonderful give and take that felt natural and carefree, and now they were ending the night almost as they started. 

Killian walked Emma to her bug. They didn’t say anything to each other. Silence hung in the air and cast a spell over the night. She did steal some glances at him as he paid the bill at the till, as he opened the door for her as they left, as he walked in time with her. He looked filled with regret. 

“Listen, Killian, I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard,” she tried to explain.

“It’s no big deal,” he tried to play it off. 

“No, it is. We are just getting to know each other again, and when you brought up, it just wasn’t what I was expecting, especially after me telling you about Henry,” she sputtered.

“I’m sure you felt the same way I felt when you mentioned Henry,” he guessed.

“Probably,” she confirmed. 

“So, don’t worry about it. OK?” he asked.

“OK, so, this is me,” she said, pointing to her car as they reached the parking spot.

“It was wonderful seeing you again, Emma; it has been too long,” he said, pulling her into a tight hug. 

She didn’t want to break the hug, so she stood there with Killian wrapped around her smaller frame. She linked her hands behind his back tight, so she wouldn’t let go. She took in everything again—the way he felt, the tightness in his biceps as he squeezed, the smell of him.

“Alright, love; I’ll see you soon,” he said, finally letting go.

“Thanks for dinner, Killian,” she responded as she got into her car, rolling down the window to say one final goodbye.

“Be safe, Swan,” he said, leaning down to give her hand, which sat on the window, a small squeeze. 

He let go, turned to walk back down the street towards where he parked his car, when she had the craziest idea. 

“Hey, Killian,” she yelled, getting his attention, having him turn back to her with a slightly confused face and arched eyebrow. “If you were serious, I would think about it.”

She didn’t give him the time to answer, rolling out of her spot and back towards her house, with a smile on her face and a laugh on her tongue. 

Even though she was laughing, she knew she was serious. 

As she laid down her head to go to bed, she began to wonder about the promise they had made and what the heck she was thinking when she told him she would think about.

Could she really marry Killian Jones just based off of a promise he had made when he was young? 

In her mind, she began to make a pros and cons list.

Pros: she knew him—even if it had been years, she knew Killian and knew his heart; she trusted him to take care of her; and she was attracted to him - she had to admit he had grown into his features and a simple hug from him sent shockwaves through her system. Another pro that went through her mind had to do with Henry. Just this week, she was told that without someone sharing the “burden,” then she would always be denied the adoption, and here was Killian, giving her the opportunity to finally and officially be Henry’s mom. 

Cons: they hadn’t been in contact in years—what if he isn’t really who he seems to be?; she didn’t trust him to not leave again; and with Henry now in the picture, she worried that he may get too close to Killian, like she did once, just to have his heart broken. It was also all so quick, and she wasn’t really sure if he truly meant it. He said he was joking but what if he was just saying that to make her feel better about her reaction? 

She decided to sleep on it, and maybe her dreams would give her the answer. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey Killian,” he heard from behind him as he walked away from Emma, “if you were serious, I would think about it.”

He froze in his tracks as he heard her angelic voice echo through the clear night. His mind was blank, unable to process what she had actually said. 

Their night had been going so well—at least, he thought it was. Conversation flowed perfectly between them, once all their past mishaps had been aired and apologies passed around. He found himself fully engaged in every word that came out of her beautiful lips. He was surprised that he was able to follow along with her stories of childhood, all while taking in every inch of her face. 

He was captivated by her, and from the moment he held her in his arms, he knew he had made the right decision reaching out to her. He was going to owe Liam something big. His arms had wrapped around her so perfectly, so wonderfully, that he knew he would never be able to hug another woman in his life. He would never be able to live his life now without her in it - permanently.

That was probably what led him to bringing up that stupid promise he had made to her all those years ago. That stupid promise that made her shrink back inside of herself, away from the person he used to know. He watched her physically recoil from him when he brought it up. How could he have been so stupid? Practically asking Emma to really marry him after seeing her for the first time in over twenty years,  _ real smart there Killian _ . Of course she would say no, of course she would find him weird and creepy. But, none of that stopped him from asking. 

When he hugged her, something was lit inside of him - a fire that would never be diminished. He knew that he would one day make sure she knew how she made him feel; but when she mentioned having a son, he suddenly got really worried. Did someone else already have Emma’s heart, a heart that he hoped he once had and could have again? Did someone else take his place? 

He was relieved when she told him the story of Henry. Of course she would find a way to care for a child she developed a bond with. Even the Emma he had known all those years ago was a tender soul who would adopt a stray cat and nurse it back to health or who would immediately run to a friend who was crying because they hurt themselves.The Emma he once knew was a compassionate soul, so it would make sense that the Emma he met tonight was the same way. 

In his mind, he could picture this Henry, he could picture Emma and him at home; Emma cooking him breakfast as old 90’s music blasted through the speakers that sat next to the waffle mix, Henry sitting on a stool at the counter in his PJs that matched Emma’s. He could see her hair, still a bit messy from sleep. He had no clue what Henry looked like, so he pictured a younger version of himself. 

_ Shit, _ he thought in that moment, because he was falling deeper and deeper down a rabbit hole - picturing Emma with a kid that looked like a younger version of him. He was sure that a psychologist would have a field day with that. 

All of that led to him asking her if she remembered that promise. All of that led to him lying to her.

He didn’t mean it as a joke; he was dead serious. He would marry her tomorrow if given a choice. But he knew he had to lie once he saw her face. He had to play it off as a joke. She didn’t look at him the way he looked at her; at least, not yet. 

He knew what he had to do. He had to build their relationship back up. He needed to invest in it, prove to her that the Killian she once knew was still there; that even though years had passed, they were still destined to be together. 

So yes, when she yelled at the car window that she would consider marrying him, he was shocked. 

She would consider a proposal from him. She would think about fulfilling the promise he made all those years ago - and make real the fantasy they had done. 

Without noticing it, he found himself back home. Just like before, when he drove to meet her at Granny’s, he couldn’t remember getting in his car and making the drive. He needed to get a hold of himself. 

She said she would just consider it—she didn’t say yes and he didn’t ask. He needed to calm down and think rationally. He needed to gather his thoughts and decide exactly how to proceed without jeopardizing what they already had. 

He had left the letters he had written to her out on the bed he was sleeping on at Liam’s. He picked up the box that housed them and perused through them, looking for one that would inspire and help him think of what he should do. Most of the letters from elementary school were angsty and poorly written. The letters from high school were a bit more bright, but filled with drama he wasn’t ready to face. His letters from college and his time with the navy were tucked in the back, still new. He didn’t need to read those, as most of them were still pretty fresh in his mind. 

He eventually settled on one from middle school. He didn’t remember exactly what had happened to make him write the letter he was now holding, but the message was loud and clear. He would do anything to win Emma, to make sure she was happy and loved, to make sure she had everything she ever wanted. And he somehow knew exactly what to do.

_ Dear Emma, _

_ It’s hard to believe we are turning thirteen soon. Actual teenagers. I’m sure your parents are throwing you a big party. You will get to have all your friends there and you will have so many presents. It’s not the same for me. Liam will celebrate it with me, he will take me out to my favorite Chinese restaurant and he will have a small present for me, but no party, no friends, no real celebration. But, that doesn’t matter, what matters is you have a wonderful birthday.  _

_ I still wonder about your feelings surrounding your birthday. I know it wasn’t talked about much growing up, or if it was talked about we were hidden from the conversation; but I wonder how you feel about celebrating your birthday two days after your actual birthday - on the day the Swans adopted you.  _

_ But never mind all that. I am actually writing for a reason. _

_ Today was a tough day at school and Liam isn’t home. So here I am again, writing to you, knowing I will probably never send this letter to you. Knowing that you probably never see the writing on this page. But, I need to talk to someone, and I know you will always be there for me, even if you don’t know it.  _

_ I was sitting at lunch when all of a sudden it felt like the world was crumbling around me. It’s still kinda early in the school year, but people have already paired off and chosen their friends’ tables. Of course, I am sitting by myself again. Well, there are people sitting at the table with me, but I don’t talk to them and they don’t talk to me. We just sit there in a comfortable silence. It hasn’t bothered me in the past, but today, it did. I was watching all the other groups; they were laughing, talking about their weekend plans, discussing the upcoming dance, and having fun. It dawned on me that I would probably never have what those kids have. Not unless I move back and see you again. I will never have a friend like those around me - someone I can confide in no matter the situation. You were that person for me, you are that person for me.  _

_ You know, I think friendships are like true loves. You only have one TRUE friendship, one that means more to you than anything else, one that makes everything better. It’s like true love, it stands the test of time. I had that with you. And now, I feel lost without it. Nobody will really understand me the way you did.  _

_ Now I know how that must sound - especially since we were so young. How can anyone know such things at such a young age? How can I even tell when as time goes on we forget things from our childhood? Well, the way our friendship made me feel tells me I won’t forget it. Just like those true loves, some memories stay with us forever. We will never forget them, no matter what else happens. Your friendship with me is that memory. How could I forget our late night adventures during the summer - when my mom and yours let us sleep outside right on the grass, our sleeping bags unzipped because it was just far too hot to keep them closed, with the stars and moon acting as our nightlight? We stayed up way too late for five year olds, talking about what we were going to do at the amusement park the next week. I distinctly remember your dad coming out and telling us if we didn’t go to sleep we would have to go back inside our respective houses and go to sleep there. I remember when our Kindergarten teacher yelled at you for sharing your crayons with another little girl in our class. I remember that we didn’t sit together, much to our protest, so I had to run over to you to hug you when you started to cry; because I couldn’t stand the thought of you upset. I hated when you cried. I remember the teacher telling me to go back to my seat; I remember telling her to bugger off; I remember getting in a whole lot of trouble from ma that night because of what I said, but all I cared about was making you happy, making sure you knew someone was in your corner.  _

_ _

_ I miss that, is what I guess I am saying. I miss you. I miss our friendship.  _

_ You have no idea what I would do to just be your friend again; your real friend. Like a friend who isn’t thousands of miles away and who doesn’t talk to you. I mean like those kids I know who sit together at lunch, who make weekend plans, who wouldn’t want to do anything without the other one by their side. Now, I’m sure you have friends like that now, you have to (you are pretty amazing, it’s hard for anyone to not be friends with you); but I sure wish it could be me. I wish we could make more memories and have a bond that is unbreakable.  _

_ But, I know that can never happen.  _

_ I’ve asked Liam a few times if we could move back home. I’ve begged him to even take a trip. Each time though, I always get the same answer. It’s always “One day we will go back, but not today, we don’t have the money.” He’s been saying the same thing to me for years now. One day.  _

_ One day will never come though, and it’s probably for the best.  _

_ I have no idea what is going on in your life; but I can probably take a really good guess. You are probably surrounded by friends. You never had issues getting kids to like you. You were everyone’s helper. I am also pretty sure that you aren’t living in a small two bedroom apartment that has mold and crazy neighbors that like to yell at each other randomly at 2 in the morning. You don’t have to worry about if your brother is going to be able to bring home enough money to get you new clothes or enough food to last the month. I’m pretty sure your parents are still together, and both alive.  _

_ What I am trying to say is that you deserve a better friend than me. That is why this all is probably for the best. You don’t need to be around someone like me.  _

_ If we were still friends; if my parent’s fucked up relationship never screwed us over, you would probably not benefit from me at all. It was always going to be a one-sided friendship. You would always make me a better person, not vice-versa.  _

_ Yet here I am, still, wishing that we were together and you were back in my life.  _

_ What’s worse is that I have feelings for you. That’s strange right?  _

_ On top of seeing everyone making weekend plans with their friends, having people to confide in, I am constantly bombarded with images of people coupling up. I knew one day it would come, but I always hoped I would be in high school. 7th grade does seem a bit early to start pairing off, but it’s all I see. I see all these couples in the hallways; I see the guys in my classes getting ready for their first dates; I hear the planning and I see the feelings they have.  _ _   
_ _   
_ __ And I wish that you were here. I wish I was doing all those things with you. 

_ That’s weird right? I haven’t seen you in almost ten years, yet I feel a pull towards you. I only picture you when I picture myself making those plans and doing all the things the boys in my year are doing.  _

_ We were so close when we were younger and I have to wonder if we would still be so close if I had stayed. I would hope so, but I know I wouldn’t be the only one feeling this way about you.  _

_ Alright, well, I’m going to stop rambling. What I just wanted to say is that it was hard today missing you. Most days are hard without you, but today was one of the hardest since ma died. It’s hard facing a life where i’m probably going to be alone because no one will hold a light to you. It’s hard knowing that I don’t get to share my days with you, that I don’t have someone who understands me the way you do. I wish that there was a way we could go back to what we used to be; before life screwed everything up.  _

_ Love always, _

_ Killian _

Thinking back on the time, Killian couldn’t believe what he wrote. What a little emo shit he was. He could remember sitting alone - something he had done since he was in second grade. He prefered it. Like he said in the letter, no one compared to Emma, so he didn’t even want anyone to try. 

It wasn’t until his first year in high school that he really started developing friendships and venturing out of his comfort zone that his memories and dreams of Emma created. 

The letter wasn’t very inspiring, but it did make him realize how deep his feelings for his old friend were. Even back then, he pictured himself with Emma. Even though the only version of Emma he had was a dream. 

So even though it was quite stupid of him to bring up the promise so quickly, he knew deep down it was the reason he wanted to see her again after all these years. He wanted to know if there was a spark there that could actually develop into something. Yes, he missed his friendship, but he also wanted to see if the things he had felt for an imagination of her translated to the real thing. 

And so far it did. 

It hadn’t even been an hour since they had parted ways when he sent her a message, deciding that it was now or never.

_ Hey love, want to hang out tomorrow? _

He didn’t hold his breath this time. Maybe it was because of her response as she left, maybe it was because of how he felt holding her in his arms, or maybe it was because of the three little dots that popped up almost immediately (ok, it was probably that but he didn’t want to admit it) - it didn’t matter, because he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

_ Sure. I have some things to do in the morning, but i’m free around noon.  _

He smiled as he typed his response.

_ Perfect. Meet me at the park at noon.  _

_ Ok, night. _

_ Night, Swan. _


	7. Chapter 7

As Emma prepared herself for bed, she kept running through the last 24 hours. She had gone from being petrified to see her best friend again after so many years, to comfortable in his company again. Then, everything changed with that one little exchange about a promise he had made to her when the world seemed to go their way. 

Of course, a promise that her “husband” made at the age of five wasn’t going to mean the same thing to her now that she was in her late twenties, hoping to adopt a son. But the idea didn’t seem to crazy to her. 

She was going to let her dreams help her make a decision; but before she had the chance to fall into dreamland, she heard the ping of her phone and knew the tone that echoed through the night. She had a Facebook message. She knew she needed to answer it, because if it was Mary Margaret or Ruby messaging her and they didn’t get a response, they would send in the National Guard to make sure she was OK. 

It happened before actually. Once, she didn’t respond back to Mary Margaret during a night out with Ruby, and Mary Margaret called the police to report her missing. She knew her friend only called out of love. But it did get annoying to answer her phone so quickly. 

She rolled over and reached in the darkness for her phone, knocking it off the table. 

“Shit!” she exclaimed.

That was one thing she really hated. Having to get out of bed, once she was comfortable, all because she was clumsy and can’t grab her phone like a normal person. 

She was about to roll her eyes at whoever was messaging her this late, until she saw the name of the sender. 

It hadn’t even been a few hours, yet Killian was already messaging her.

_ Hey love, want to hang out tomorrow? _

She had to laugh out loud at the whole crazy night. She just wasn’t quite sure how to process anything anymore. 

_ Sure. I have some things to do in the morning, but i’m free around noon.  _

She waited as she watched the typing bubbles dance across the screen. She was about to ask him what he wanted to do when she got the ping of a delivered message.

_ Perfect. Meet me at the park at noon.  _

She had no clue what he could be planning at the park. She also knew which park he meant. 

Storybrooke had a lot of parks—it was what made it one of the best places to raise kids on the Eastern Seaboard. However, there was only one park he could mean: the park near their old homes. It was still one of Emma’s favorite places in the world. The park was pretty big, enough to have a nice pond in the center that she used to go fishing with her dad in. There were cute little benches that she still loved to sit at, reading a book well after the sunset, by the light of the lamps. 

_ Ok, night. _

She didn’t want to end the short conversation. She wanted to tease him some, maybe throw another wrench into the mix - but she also didn’t want to tempt fate anymore. 

_ Night Swan. _

The nickname had her smiling again. She loved all the little names he used to give her. No one had called her Swan in ages; not since sports. “Ms. Swan” was heard every day during school (sometimes way more than needed, making her hate the name), but “Swan” by itself had been MIA. And even though she would hear it during sporting games, hearing it with an Irish accent and with a husky tone sent chills through her body. 

“Love” was something he had gotten from his mom; at least, that is what she thought. Alice always called her kids, Emma including, her little loves. The term was endearing and filled with grace when Alice would say it. When Killian called her “love,” she felt the same feelings, but there was something else that his voice held. She wasn’t able to put her finger on it; all she knew was that she didn’t want him to ever stop calling her love. 

*******

She had spent a restless night tossing and turning in her bed. She wasn’t worried about anything; she just couldn’t get her mind to shut off and stop thinking about piercing blue eyes, chin stubble that was just the right length, and a laugh that she had missed so much. 

She replayed their meeting multiple times, cringing at certain parts and smiling when they fell into the rhythm they once had. 

When Emma woke up the next morning, as the light from outside was just starting to filter in through the drawn shades over her windows, she was surprised to find that she wasn’t rethinking her decision to tell Killian she would think about their past promises. 

As she thought about the night before, even right after it happened, she was sure she would feel a twinge of regret even saying it. She was almost positive she would wake up the next morning wishing she could hide under a rock and never see him again. Yet, she didn’t feel any of that. 

There were no walls building up again. There were no boundaries when it came to Killian. She was wide open, ready for anything with him. 

She was shocked. Yet, she felt at peace. 

It must have been from that instant connection. She never felt more at home, more right, than when she was just sitting with him, talking. And yes, that played a part in her decision to let him know she would think about their past; yet there was something else, something more selfish and wrong, that made her think she would go through with it. 

Henry, and her desperate need to officially make him hers. She would move heaven and earth for him, and if marrying Killian would make that happen, she would do it, as long as she could adopt him. 

But, it was just a thought—a little joke that she had played the night before. It was something said that didn’t hold any weight. He was kidding around with her and she gave it right back. 

******

The plans she had the next morning were plans she knew she could never cancel. It was her monthly brunch with the girls. It was a chance to get day drunk (Ruby’s idea), eat to their heart’s content (Mary Margaret’s idea), and relax (Emma’s idea). So, once a month, the girls drove out of town to a nearby village where there was a endless mimosa brunch buffet. Sometimes, the car would get left there and a taxi called, but the journey was well worth it. 

“To new beginnings,” Mary Margaret toasted as she raised a glass of fresh orange juice. 

“To good friends,” Emma added.

Every brunch began with a traditional toast. It was cheesy, but she loved it. Normally Mary Margaret would toast to something sappy—love, hope, the list goes on and on—while Emma tended to keep things minimal, toasting to the food most of the time. She waited for Ruby to chime in - her toast was what kept them on their toes.

“To disgustingly hot old friends who show up out of the blue,” she finally said, looking Emma straight in the eyes.

“What?” Mary Margaret coughed, as she took a sip of her drink. Ruby laughed at the response; Emma was sure she wanted OJ to fly out of her nose.

“Oh, Emma didn’t tell you?” Ruby whispered, always the trouble maker.

“Tell me what?” the pixie-haired woman questioned, looking at Emma with a bit of disbelief. 

Normally, Emma shared everything with Mary Margaret. She rarely kept something a secret from her. It wasn’t if she hadn’t tried in the past—she had—but her secrets had a way of slipping out whenever her best friend was around. So for Emma to keep something like the appearance of Killian Jones a secret, it was a shock.

“Well, right after you left my room the other day, Killian messaged me,” she started.

“He what?” her friend responded; excitement laced her voice and it went up an octave. Emma knew exactly what Mary Margaret was thinking. And it was actually something that Emma was thinking, too.

She could tell from the change in her voice that Mary Margaret was thinking that love would blossom in Emma’s life, finally putting her on the same path most of her friends already walked. She was thinking that she could finally stop trying to set Emma up with guys who would only be halfway decent (but they were the best she could do). 

Emma had been thinking it, too. In the back of her mind, she wanted that. She wanted Killian to be the answer to her problems, in more ways than one. 

Yes, she needed him to help her get Henry, but at the same time, she did know that something was missing from her life. She didn’t feel quite whole, even with the addition of Henry. Sure, the kid soothed her soul and made her so happy, but there was always something beneath the surface nagging at her, telling her that there was still emptiness in her soul. 

“He messaged me and asked if we could go to dinner. So we had dinner last night,” she explained, not wanting to look directly at Mary Margaret. 

“And…” she trailed off, waiting for Emma to fill in the space.

“And what?” Emma retaliated. 

“And, what happened? What did he say? What did he look like? What did you do? Was it everything you hoped for? Were you nervous? What did you wear? What did Henry think?” Mary Margaret began, with no end in sight. 

“Calm down, crazy,” Ruby interjected, “she will tell you if you just let her.”

Mary Margaret took a deep breath and nodded, the gleam in her eyes still there, the hope still bubbling. 

“At first, I was a bit nervous. I actually wasn’t sure if I even wanted to go. I was a hot mess, putting it mildly, all day yesterday. I could barely focus. I was scared that all my fears about seeing him would come true. Nothing between us has ever worked out the way we wanted in the past, so why should it start now?” she explained, beginning to tell the tale.

As she told Mary Margaret and Ruby everything about the night before, she was surprised at how the story unfolded. There weren’t many secrets between the girls, but sometimes, it took a lot for Emma to really talk to them the way she was right now. It wasn’t that Emma didn’t trust them—she trusted them with her life, but she wasn’t really a sharer. At least not in the way that Mary Margaret or Ruby shared about their lives. 

Emma wove her tale, going over her nerves before the  _ date _ . She spent at least twenty minutes talking as they sipped their mimosas and feasted on third and fourth plates from the buffet. She had known that she was nervous for the entire night, but she hadn’t realized the extent.

“Oh, Emma, you should have told me; I would have helped you get ready,” Mary Margaret said. 

“I highly doubt that,” Ruby interjected. 

While the girls loved each other, they liked to give each other a hard time.

“You would have just fussed over her like it was her first date. I don’t think that would have made her feel better,” she added, and she was right.

At times, Mary Margaret acted more like her mother than her best friend, doting on Emma in a way that was sometimes overbearing. She knew if she had told Mary Margaret about her upcoming meeting with Killian, she would have insisted on being with Emma right up to Killian sitting down at the table, a gigantic smile plastered across her face, ever the proud mom. That was why she kept it to herself; she didn’t need someone else’s dreams of what the night might be affecting her. 

She didn’t tell Ruby simply because she was the complete opposite of Mary Margaret. She would have tried to get Emma drunk before the whole thing, tried to get her to dress way more sexy, and sure, Emma’s mind would have been occupied so much that thoughts of her nerves over meeting Killian wouldn’t have popped up, but she didn’t need them all gone.

“So, what was he like?” Mary Margaret said, pulling Emma from her thoughts. 

“It was strange, actually. You know, I’ve been keeping tabs on him all along, but seeing him in person was still a shock. He looked the same yet different. It was like time hadn’t passed at all, yet moved too quickly. For a while, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the whole thing,” she confessed. 

“She is skipping the best part,” Ruby said, sipping on a fresh drink.

“What’s that?” Mary Margaret questioned.

“He’s sex on a stick,” she snorted. 

Emma shook her head at Ruby’s assessment of Killian. She knew she would have to cut Ruby off soon, but at least her comment lightened the mood a bit. The way she said her description of him even had Mary Margaret laughing. 

“Ruby!” Emma finally scolded.

“What?” Ruby said, looking around like she had done nothing wrong. “Well fine, you describe him then.”

“Again, it wasn’t like a big surprise or anything. I’ve seen his pictures on Facebook. But, I will say, they don’t do him justice,” she blushed.

“You  _ like  _ him,” Ruby giggled, making Emma reach over to take the mimosa from her hands, cutting her off sooner rather than later. 

“I do not,” she lied. 

Well, it was a white lie. She wasn’t sure what she really felt about him. It had been so many years, and she didn’t trust the old feelings that were rising to the surface. She didn’t trust the skip her heart did when she even thought about Killian. She didn’t trust the dirty thoughts she had about his scruff and how it would feel against her skin. She didn’t trust the way he was able to just waltz back into her life like nothing had ever happened. 

She didn’t trust herself.

“Come on, Emma, don’t think about it,” Mary Margaret interjected. 

Looking into the woman’s face, Emma knew that Mary Margaret could tell what she was thinking. She could see Emma second guessing everything; it was a fault she had dealt with since they became roommates. Emma would never admit it, not aloud, but she was still scared that one day, someone wouldn’t want her because of a mistake she made. 

A drunken night in college had Emma confessing to Mary Margaret that she was still worried about it because she wasn’t good enough for her biological parents. Sure, she had ones now that loved her, and she had friends that would stand by her side forever; but there was still a nagging fear that she didn’t deserve it and one day, it would all disappear.

Emma kept Mary Margaret’s gaze.

“Alright, moving on,” Mary Margaret gave up. 

There was no way Emma was going to admit anything.

“What did you all talk about? Was it hard listening to him with that sexy accent?” Ruby giggled, still buzzed. 

“We talked about everything, really. I told him about life after he left; he was so sweet too - asking questions and really showing an interest in what I had accomplished. It was almost too sweet; he was more supportive than my mom and dad were at times. We talked about his mom a bit,” she recalled, a sadness coming to her voice, “I wish I had been there for him, fought harder for our friendship then. He was so young to lose a parent, let alone both, that it broke my heart all over again. We talked about his career. It was really nice actually.”

She smiled at the recollection. 

“Sounds like y’all got nicely acquainted,” Mary Margaret said. 

“We did; I even told him about Henry,” Emma confessed.

Ruby’s mouthed gaped open, while Mary Margaret looked at Emma with surprise. 

They knew how important and special that was. It took Emma months for her to finally confess to her two best friends that she was fostering and adopting Henry. She didn’t want to jinx anything when she first applied to foster Henry, so she didn’t tell anyone at first. So, for her to tell someone about him right off the bat was huge.

“Oh my God. Emma, that’s huge! What did he say?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Well, at first he was surprised, then he got a bit upset I think,” she said.

“Why?” Ruby wondered.

“He was jealous actually,” she began, smiling at the thought, “he was jealous that he thought Henry was my biological kid and I had found someone.”

“He  _ likes _ you,” Ruby sang, again. 

“Oh Emma, that’s so sweet,” Mary margaret exclaimed.

“It was, and he was really supportive when I explained the whole situation.” She couldn’t help but beam.

“There’s something else, too, isn’t there?” Mary margaret questioned. 

How she could tell that Emma left out a very important part of the evening, she didn’t know, but Emma was a bit tentative to tell the girls about their promise. She was already judging it and worried about what it all may mean, so she didn’t want the added pressure or thoughts in her head.

“Nope, that’s about it,” Emma lied again. “It was a great night.”

“That’s wonderful, Emma,” Mary margaret said reaching over to grab Emma’s hands.

“So when are you seeing him again?” Ruby asked.

“This afternoon actually. He messaged me last night and asked if we could hang out today. Henry’s at Avery’s all weekend, so I thought why the hell not?” 

“You don’t waste any time do you?” Ruby jested.

“I guess I just want to see if something is there, you know? For all these years I’ve had fantasies about him—not in that way, Red,” she immediately intervened before Ruby had a chance to make one of her normal comments, throwing her childhood nickname in to make sure Ruby knew she was just playing. “I’ve always wondered if there was really something between us or if it was just something I imagined. Were we really great friends, did we really have a connection, or was it simply because we didn’t have a choice?”

“Well, I for one, am happy for you. I just know everything will work out!” Mary Margaret added, raising her glass one more time. “To new beginnings.”

Emma lifted an eyebrow. It was the second time that day that Mary Margaret had said those words, and a sparkle in the young woman’s eye told her that it meant something more.

“Ok, why do you keep saying that?” She questioned.

“Well, you aren’t the only one starting something new,” she said, her eyes wondering down.

It dawned on Emma that Mary Margaret was about to announce something huge - and she should have noticed earlier. Her best friend had been absent from school earlier in the week, for a doctors appointment, which wasn’t like her. She had been a bit nauseous earlier in the month when Emma made them dinner - but she just thought her cooking was bad. Now, Mary Margaret wasn’t drinking her normal cup of tea or sipping on mimosas.

“Ladies, you’re gonna be aunts!” Mary Margaret beamed, before Emma and Ruby shouted with glee and enveloped her in a hug.

**********

She had driven like a bat out of hell trying to make it back to the park before noon. She thankfully had stopped drinking early enough, and had only had the one glass of mimosa. She was more buzzed from Mary Margaret’s news. She was so excited for her friend. They had been trying for a couple of months to get pregnant and Mary Margaret was starting to get down about the whole thing. Emma was already planning the baby shower in her mind as she raced through town. 

The park near her old childhood home hadn’t changed much. The benches had been updated and the street lights that lined the jogging trail had been upgraded. The little pond was still filled with fish once a year and the same gardening club used the beds located at the west entrance. It was just like Killian: some things had changed, but many stayed the same. 

She was giddy with excitement as she got out of her car, which she parked next to their old homes, and walked to the open space. She wasn’t sure what to expect but she knew where she would meet him. Again, that went unsaid between them, but just like how she knew he meant this park, she knew he would meet her near their favorite spot. There was a weeping willow near the pond. She and Killian used to hide under the long branches, not wanting to leave the park when their mothers told them it was time to go home for lunch. It was always at least 10 degrees cooler under the layer of leaves, and Emma took to sitting there quite a lot when she just needed to escape the trials of being a teenager. 

The best part about that tree though wasn’t something she shared with Killian, but something she shared with Ruby. The willow tree reminded her of Grandmother Willow from Pocahontas – and she and Ruby would try to sing all the songs from the movie the summer it came out. They would run around singing  _ Colors of the Wind _ as if they were actually in the movie. 

That tree was special to her. She was so thankful after every major storm the area saw, when she would walk to the park to find that willow tree still standing. 

A giant smile crossed Emma’s face when she saw Killian standing at the base of the leaves, where they brushed the grass that had been freshly cut, if Emma’s nose wasn’t lying to her. He wasn’t dressed up, which made Emma sigh in relief. Brunch with the girls was a casual affair, and she was worried that the crop top halter she had chosen with her high waisted flare jeans that she loved would be too casual. She was pretty sure that he knew she would be more comfortable in her traditional attire though. She thought back to the days when their mothers made them dress up for holidays at the church, school functions, or any type of party. She pitched a fit whenever her mother tried to get her to wear a dress. She thought the dresses were pretty, but weren’t very conducive for playing a game of tag with Killian. 

He looked almost too good for words. She thought he looked good last night, decked out in all black, but as he stood there underneath the sun, she realized just how enticing he looked. He was still pale, but there was a tint to his skin on his arms that showed a history of being outside for long periods of time in his uniform. She thought to herself how much she wanted to see him in it. The saying was true, at least for her: she loved a man in uniform. 

While he wore black last night; the blue that he was wearing today made him pop. His over shirt was made of a light denim and was unbuttoned. The dark blue shirt underneath was the perfect choice. His all blue attire didn’t clash, but accented his build and it was as if she could see the bright blues of his eyes from far away when she looked at that shirt. 

“Hello, love,” he said as she drew near, stepping over the blanket that she hadn’t noticed before. 

He brought himself closer to her quickly, reaching out to pull her into a hug. 

She went without protest, pulling herself closer to him. She felt the same spark that she had the night before, so at least she knew it wasn’t a fluke she was feeling like this. His mere presence put her on high alert, but in a good way. She noticed everything about him when he was around, while the background faded. 

She had decided on the way over that she was going to go for it. No longer would she let fear control her life. Whatever she and Killian became or didn’t become wasn’t going to scare her, because one second with Killian was better than no seconds with him at all. Plus, she had decided after brunch, even with all of Ruby’s teasing and Mary Margaret’s hoping that maybe marrying Killian was one of her most brilliant ideas. She just had to make sure he thought so, too, and understood she was serious.

There was nothing in particular that changed her mind. One moment, she was getting into her car; the next, she had decided to just let go of all the feelings that were inside and just listen to her gut. Maybe it was seeing how happy Mary Margaret was, maybe it was the constant beat of old feelings that invaded her mind. Either way, while Emma knew she might deal with some conflicting emotions over the whole thing, she also knew her desire to really see what could happen with Killian was stronger. 

“Hello,” she finally breathed when she pulled back from the hug, even though she would have been content staying there all afternoon. 

“So, what do you have planned for us today?” she asked, smiling up at him. 

“Well, I thought that maybe we could eat a quick lunch, then head down to the pier for some fun and games,” he said with mischief in his eyes. 

“Sounds good,” she replied.

“I know you just came from brunch, so I just picked up something quick and light,” he explained, pointing down to the picnic basket that was sitting on the edge of the blanket. There was something in his tone that made Emma think he was worried about what he had prepared.

“Thanks, I actually am hungry. You’d be surprised at how quickly that brunch wears off,” she explained. 

Every time the girls went to brunch, Emma could be found snacking a couple of hours later. It was a good brunch, but it didn’t fill her up. It didn’t matter to her though, she really went to brunch for the comradery, not the food. The mimosas were a plus though. 

“I made some comfort food; I hope you like,” he smiled as he took out all the fixings from the basket.

Emma took a seat, facing the pond, with him sitting to her right. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but she was almost positive he could see her sneaking glances his direction. She couldn’t help it. Staring at him was almost second nature to her. 

She giggled when she saw the spread he had laid out in front of her. There were PB&J sandwiches, with the crust cut off, ants on a log, potato chips in the right flavor, and Emma’s all-time favorite snack drink from when she was a kid. He had made a lunch they had shared many a time. It was like he was trying to get them to relive the past, and at least this part of their shared past didn’t hurt to think about. 

Alice used to make this exact lunch for them every weekend they spent at that park. Killian hated the crust on the bread his mom used, so she always cut them off, sometimes making shapes for them. She could remember Killian’s delighted squeal when he found a dinosaur shaped sandwich one afternoon when they had sat under the same tree after a long morning of ruling the jungle gym nearby. 

“Tell me more about Henry,” he asked as they were about halfway through the lunch. 

Emma’s eyes looked up from her second sandwich to see if he truly was interested in her son, or if he just wanted to seem interested. While she had never really experienced this, the talking about her son to a date, she knew it would eventually be brought up. She had seen the TV shows and movies. She knew that sometimes men would fake interest just to get into her pants. She highly doubted that Killian had ulterior motives in asking about Henry, but she had to make sure. 

As her emerald eyes met his, she instantly knew that her feelings were right: Killian was truly interested in Henry. His eyes held excitement and wonder, waiting to hear everything Emma had to say about him. 

“What do you want to know?” she inquired.

“Everything, of course,” he smiled at her, a dashing smile that made her melt.

“Well, I already told you how we met and everything,” she began. “That morning when I walked into the home, I never expected everything that had happened to actually happen. I was surprised at how supportive everyone was. Here I was, a brand new adult, just figuring out my life, and all of a sudden I had a foster kid who I wanted to adopt. Nobody looked at me funny, no one batted an eye. Mom and Dad were so happy.”

“But you said you haven’t adopted him yet?” 

“No, I’m in the process. The adoption agency I’m using has a lot of hoops I have to jump through,” her demeanor changed with the words. Before she was carefree, enjoying sitting under the afternoon sun and relaxing with Killian, but now it seemed as if the sun had set and dark clouds rolled in.

“Hey,” he said, reaching over to clasp her hand in his, “I’m sure it will all work out. I’m sure Henry will be your son soon. If there is anything I can do to help, just let me know. I know I was gone for awhile, but I’m back now love, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thanks,” she said, her smile returning. Her mind was racing around what he just said - that he would do anything to help her. 

She didn’t let go of his hand though. Sparks continued to shoot up her arm, attacking her systems and making her heart race. She couldn’t deny the attraction between them, and the jolt of energy she got from just his hand entwined with hers made her crave his touch even more. She moved herself closer to him, disregarding her lunch still half-eaten. 

Her hand curled his into her lap, their legs now pressed together as they sat shoulder to shoulder. She was tempted to push it further, but he stiffened a bit as she moved, so she didn’t want to tempt fate.

It was as if he was holding his breath. 

She knew he felt that same attraction she felt. She knew he knew that the feelings they once shared for each other were still there. Except those feeling had substantially grown. Just as they themselves matured, their feelings had as well. 

Not only was the physical attraction there, but Emma felt a pull towards him for who he was. The confidence that he exuded, the way he looked at her, the way she felt calm around him; well, it was more attractive to her than his looks - which was saying something.

“You know, I was thinking,” she began, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand, looking up into the ocean that was his eyes.

“Oh really, and what were you thinking?” He asked, a bit tentatively.

“Well, I was thinking about what I said last night,” she smiled, casting a flirtatious look his way.

She was laying on the charm thick. She was flirting with him way more than she probably needed to; but what she was about to say to him made her nervous, and the behavior was well hidden behind the smile and touches she was giving him.

“And what is it that you are thinking?” His eyes took in her as he whispered the words, leaning closer to her.

“I was thinking that I meant what I said - that maybe we should,” she said.

He was shocked, Emma could see the change in his eyes. 

“What are you saying, Emma?” he finally responded after a beat - using her real name for the first time in a long time. Emma had loved all the nicknames he had for her, but hearing her name come from his lips, laced in that seductive accent and deep voice did things to her. 

“I’m saying, let’s do it; let’s get married.”


	8. Chapter 8

He stared at her for a moment - running the last few seconds through his mind over and over again. Did she really just say what he thinks she said? 

_ “I’m saying, let’s do it; let’s get married.” _

Those words kept repeating in his mind.  _ Let’s get married _ . 

His eyes met hers and held them steady. He watched as a smile crossed her face, one that was almost glad she caught him by surprise, but one that also said she meant every word. 

How she meant every word, he didn’t know. He thought he had royally fucked up the night before in even bringing up their old promise. The shock that crossed her face when he had asked her about it was one of the scariest things he had ever encountered. He had just gotten her back in his life and he had already scared her off. So, when at the end of the night she shocked him in her confession, he was relieved, but almost positive she was joking. 

She had to be joking.

It had been over 20 years since they had even talked to each other; so how could anyone say that they would marry someone when there had been limited communication? How could you marry someone who felt like a close friend but in reality was a stranger? 

Yet, it all made sense. It’s why he made the promise in the first place. 

Sure, it started off as a thing that 5 year olds thought was cute, but as Killian grew up, he knew it made some sense. Why not marry your best friend? Why not marry someone who has known you for years? Better than many of the alternatives. 

“Hey,” she began, pulling him from his inner monologue.

He had kept her gaze the whole time, but he realized how out of it he must have seemed. 

“Don’t think too hard, it’s you and me, just following through with a promise,” she added.

Her hand was still grasped in his. Her thumbs were still drawing designs on the back of his hand. Her shoulders were still touching his, causing his breathing to increase.

Even after their long hug the night before, he still felt a rush when he was in contact with her. 

It was how he knew his feelings for her were more than just his childhood crush. It was how he knew that the emotions he felt whenever he looked at her, whenever he thought about her, whenever he stole a glance at her profile were the real thing. He knew that he would never feel that way with any other person, no matter how hard he had tried or wished it in his past.

She was right though, like always. It was just them. Emma and Killian. Their moms always said they were destined to be together. It didn’t matter the time that had passed. Their history didn’t matter. What did matter was the connection they always shared. 

“Emma,” he tried to begin, but was abruptly cut off.

Emma’s lips crashed against his in a move he didn’t quite expect. She had shocked him with her proposal, but the kiss that she was initiating stunned him to his core. 

Her lips were soft, yet demanding. 

His whole system submitted to her. He pulled his hands from her and brought them to her face. His thumbs dragging against her cheeks as his fingers went to her hair. He used them to pull her closer to him, taking over the kiss. 

He demanded her mouth open with a push of his tongue and heard a soft moan escape her. She pulled herself closer still, her hands going to wrap around his waist. 

He had never kissed someone with such passion before, not even Milah. The raw emotions passing between them, the tension that could be cut with a knife, was fuel that kept their kiss going. There was no slowing down; or at least he didn’t want them to slow down. He wanted to keep kissing her. In fact, he never wanted to stop kissing her.

The way her lips moved against his, the way she sucked on his lips, the way her arms wrapped around him; it was all so much. He could feel the desire she had. 

The intoxication of the kiss had his hidden resolve melting away. He wasn’t about to say  _ yes, let’s get married tomorrow _ , but he wouldn’t say no to it if their kiss lasted much longer. His resolve would definitely be waived if she continued to push herself against him in a way that told him just how much she needed him. 

“What do you say, Killian,” she asked as she pulled back from him slowly, not wanting to break the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed with the prettiest color he had ever seen. He never wanted to see her without that color in her cheeks again - so much so he almost pulled her right back to him to kiss her senseless again. 

“Emma, while I would dream of nothing more, I think we should talk this through,” he finally choked out, hating himself with each word out of his mouth. 

He could see her deflate the instant the words left his mouth. She was upset that he didn’t take her up on the proposal right away. 

“Love,” he began, as he reached his hand to cup her chin and bring it back to his face. “I’m not going to lie to you, hearing you say that has been something I had one day hoped to hear, but I think we are rushing things just a bit.”

Her eyes started to fill with tears, she clearly didn’t expect him to deny her. And while he hated to disappoint her again, he had to make sure that what they were doing was right. 

“Emma, please, don’t be upset, I just don’t want either one of us to get hurt from making hastily decisions, especially when our emotions are all over the place. I wouldn’t know what to do if we ever took a step in the wrong direction and ruined our friendship,” he began, hoping that she would listen and really understand his words. 

Her friendship meant more to him than life itself. Yes, most of their friendship had been spent in silence, thousands of miles apart; but she was his lifeline. Just knowing that she was out there somewhere kept him going when things got rough. He knew it was crazy to think that, but that is what she was. She was his heaven. 

“I need you to understand, love, that I cannot lose my best friend right after I just got her back,” he continued, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead. His resolve was lessening with every sad look from those emerald eyes. He had always hated saying no to her. 

Even when they were little, Emma always got her way with him, no matter what situation they were in. She had a way of wrapping Killian around her little finger. He even remembers letting her dress him up in a dress and makeup when he would have rather been outside playing pirates. She made her sad little puppy dog face, told him that she really wanted to play dress up, and he caved. So they spent the afternoon playing salon, Emma creating so many outfits for him. It was probably the reason that he sometimes still wore eyeliner when going out - Emma said it made his eyes pop. He was pretty sure four-year-old Emma had no idea what that meant as she accidently stabbed his eyes a few times, but he was also pretty sure she was right. 

“When I found out that I was coming back to Storybrooke, and when I knew that you were still around, I knew I had to make things right between us; and yes, I did hope that something would happen between us - as I was pretty sure what I felt for you was real - I just don’t want to fuck anything up. I can’t lose you, love,” he whispered into the hair on her head that was now sitting against his chest. 

He wondered if she could hear his heartbeat and hoped that she could hear the feelings he carried for her. He hoped that the beating of his heart would tell her that he couldn’t survive if their friendship was ruined. 

“You won’t fuck anything up,” she countered softly, not looking up into his eyes.

Maybe it was because she was scared of the same thing. Maybe her emotions were playing with her the same way his were toying with him. Part of him was wanting to jump off the cliff, not caring if there were rocks at the bottom or a deep open ocean; yet there was another part of him telling him to take his time, stick one toe in first, feel the water, make sure to protect his heart. 

She had to be feeling the same way he did. The worry and anxiety he felt must have also been pacing through her system. 

“I’ve never had another friend like you love, never felt this connection with anyone else. You’ve had a wonderful life, made some amazing friends who will be there for life; but I’ve only had you. Even though you weren’t physically there, I always knew I had you. I don’t want us to lose what we’ve just gotten back. I would be utterly devastated if I lost you. Please understand,” he concluded, hoping that she saw where he was coming from.

“I get it, but I don’t agree with it. Our friendship lasted through our past, it can weather any storm. I know it can.” Her words carried weight he hadn’t heard from her before. It was as if she was willing the words to truth. 

“I really hope you’re right, Swan, because even though it’s crazy, even though I’m sure everyone will think we are insane, I want to do this, too. My life wasn’t the greatest for a long time, but there was always something keeping me going, one thing that I want to keep forever,” he said, pulling himself back so he can look in her eyes.

“And what was that?” She asked, like she already knew the answer to her questions. 

“You, love; or well, the dream of you,” he explained.

He leaned down to press a chaste kiss against her soft lips. The scent of her almost kept him there.

“If we are going to do this love, we need to set some ground rules. Make sure that we do everything possible to make sure our friendship stays intact,” he offered.

**

He shuddered to think what would happen if they rushed into a relationship, into anything really, and lost a friendship that kept him going for so many years. She really was his best friend. Who else would forgive him for all his stupidity over the years at a drop of the hat? Who else would completely understand what he had been through and not hold it against him? He knew that his judgement in the past, his behaviors, weren’t all his fault - part of it was due to him having no one to really guide him in life - but he was still thankful towards Emma for forgiving him. 

Rules would help them navigate what was to come; because if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he wanted to marry Emma so badly - to finally be tied to the person who had not only held him up without even being around, but someone who could forgive almost any transgression and see the good in him. 

The physical attraction between them helped. 

“Rules,” she agreed, smiling up at him. It was a smile that he would never forget. She was like a kid on Christmas morning, who just got the best present from Santa.

“First, before we jump the gun and actually get married - we live together first. 30 days, living like a married couple. Second, if at anytime either one of us feels like our friendship is deteriorating, we stop. What do you say?” He asks, a bit apprehensive. 

“We live together, acting like any other married couple would. We put our friendship first, no matter what, the friendship is most important,” she concurred. 

“Are we really doing this?” He couldn’t believe they were actually going to do this. 

It was a huge surprise to him that Emma would forgive him so quickly for his past issues; that she would put aside all those emotions she felt after he abandoned her, and just forgive him. It was even a bigger surprise to have her feel any attraction towards him. The kiss they shared earlier really threw him for a loop, sending shockwaves through his system. But the surprise of her saying she wanted to marry him wasn’t something he ever thought he would hear.

He couldn’t believe that his childhood dream was going to become a reality. When he was younger, when they would both play in the backyard, Liam would tease them both that one day they would get married. Not once did Killian ever say  _ ewww _ or tease Emma about it. Instead, he would grab her hand and just smile brightly. Over time, those feelings for her only grew stronger. His heart soared just thinking that she would even be willing to go on a date with him, so to hear her say that she was willing to do this - well, it was the best feeling in the world. 

The disbelief over what they were going to do was a dominant feeling; he was excited, too. He was going to get the opportunity to hold her in his arms as he drifted off to sleep. He was going to get to wake up every morning next to her, seeing the soft look on her face as she slept. He was lovestruck.

“What is it?” Emma inquired, noting his tone and posture. Since she had agreed to the rules, his body wasn’t relaxed, even with Emma in his arms. It was as if fear was slowly taking over.

“I’ve just rushed into things before and it didn’t turn out so well,” he confessed, thinking back to a time in his life where he thought he had everything together, only to have life play a trick on him and yank everything away from him once again. 

They sat in silence for a moment, his worry almost fully overtaking him. 

“We aren’t your past; you aren’t your past. You have to learn to let go of that. I don’t blame you for what happened when we were kids, and you shouldn’t blame yourself either. You shouldn’t blame yourself for whatever else happened. Just know that what matters now is the future, us,” she took his hands back in hers, giving them a squeeze. 

“Thank you, love,” he smiled down at her. 

“So, when you moving in?” she asked, changing subjects bringing an even bigger grin to his face. 

***********

They had spent the rest of their date just sitting in each other’s arms, discussing what the upcoming month would look like; getting used to the idea of living together and what the end of the thirty days really meant. 

Rules were added over time, too. Killian had asked about Henry and what Emma was going to tell him. 

“I don’t want him to know what is really going on,” she confessed, looking down on herself at the thought of lying to her son, but Killian understood her trepidation. 

“So what do you want to tell him?” 

“I hate lying to him, I always told him I would be honest with him; but I don’t think it would be a good idea to tell him we are trying out marriage before we actually get married. Especially since he has never met you,” she was rambling on.

“You tell him whatever you think he should know. I know you said you would never lie to him, but sometimes it’s what a parent has to do; do you think your parents never lied to you? Do you think my ma never lied to me? Of course they did; doesn’t mean they loved us any less, doesn’t mean they didn’t have our best interest in mind. I’ll support you no matter what you choose, love, but I will say I cannot wait to meet him,” he smiled as he rubbed small circles on the small of Emma’s back. 

He had thought having his fingers in her hair would be his new favorite place, but he found having his hands on her back was his favorite place to be. It allowed him to still look the the stellar eyes he now knew he could never say no to, yet allowed him the ability to make sure she didn’t get too far from his loving embrace. 

She smiled at his recommendation. 

“Well, he is at his friend’s house until tomorrow night; but I’ll cook a dinner and we can do something nice,” she said. 

“And what are you going to tell him?”

“I’ll figure it out later.” She was still hesitant and Killian decided to drop it. 

He trusted her.

**********

“What the hell do you mean you are moving in with Emma Swan,” he heard his brother bellow from the entrance way of his home as Killian walked around his bedroom trying to get everything packed away in order to move into Emma’s that night. 

He had sadly pried himself away from Emma after their wonderful and lazy afternoon. She was headed to her place to move some items around, preparing her cozy little cottage for him, while he went home to pack the necessities. 

There wasn’t much for him to pack. He didn’t have many things, but most of the items he did bring with him to Liam’s would stay there for a bit. Emma’s house had everything he needed - most important of those things was Emma. 

He turned to see Liam standing in the doorway to the guest bedroom; fury dancing across his features. He hadn’t seen his brother this angry in a while; but behind the anger, he could see confusion was really the biggest issue Liam had. 

On his way back to Liam’s he texted him, letting him know of his plans, hoping that his brother wouldn’t be home to give him a taste of his mind. 

Liam wasn’t going to be happy with Killian’s decision; Killian already knew that when he had given into Emma’s request. While Liam wanted to push the two together, while he wanted Killian to finally get the girl; Killian knew his brother, he knew Liam would be thinking he was moving way to fast. Liam was going to be Killian’s inner fears in real life. He could push off the doubts that swelled in his mind easy enough - especially when he looked in those emerald eyes. But he couldn’t debate away Liam the way he could with his brain. 

“Good evening to you, too, brother,” he quipped. 

“Fuck your good evenings; what the fuck is going on, little brother?” Liam demanded.

“I’m moving in with Emma,” he responded, with a hint of sarcasm on his tongue. 

“No you aren’t. You’re staying right here; take your shit back out of that bag,” even though Liam was yelling at him, he hadn’t moved from his spot in the doorway. That at least was a good thing. Killian had learned if Liam stood still, even if he was yelling, it meant he wasn’t really pissed; Killian would be able to explain himself and Liam would probably let him do it. 

He didn’t respond back to his brother. There was no need. Liam wouldn’t fully understand why Killian was taking this risk. He couldn’t understand. 

While Liam had sacrificed a lot for Killian, for their lives, he still had it pretty easy in the love department. He had contacted his old crush pretty quickly once the internet had allowed him to. Liam had stayed in touch with Cecelia throughout the years. 

Cecelia had been Liam’s dream, but with him being so far away, they dated others. His now sister-in-law was even married before Liam. They ended up together eventually - but it still wasn’t anything compared to the hell Killian went through with Emma. 

“Fine,” Liam huffed, knowing he had reached some sort of stalemate with his brother. “Why are you moving in with her?”

Liam sat down on the twin bed, wringing his hands as he waited for Killian to give him an answer he would deem worthy. 

“She asked,” he said, simple as that.

“So, if she asked you to jump off a bridge, you would?” Liam barked, just like any parent would do if their kid had gotten mixed in with the wrong crowd. 

Killian shot him a look that he knew Liam would understand. Killian wasn’t a child, not anymore. He didn’t make rash decisions and no one could ever force him to do anything; even though if Emma did tell him to jump, he may just listen. 

“Alright, fine,” Liam conceded, already knowing what Killian would say if he was given the chance. “Why does she want you to move in with her?”

Killian took a moment to compose himself. He hated lying to Liam.

Emma had suggested that they keep the true nature of the move secret from everyone. It would make things easier with Henry; plus it would allow them the opportunity to really see if they could make it, without the influence of her friends. She claimed they meddled a bit too much. 

He had smiled at her suggestion, mostly because Liam had been known to do the same thing her friends. He thought Liam and Mary Margaret would get along pretty well. 

“She claims it is so we can make up for lost time, and she had a point. We’ve been separated for so long, and this will give us a time to get to know each other again. Plus, she is closer to the base. Not to mention a king sized bed in the guest room,” he jested. 

While he was thankful for Liam’s hospitality, the twin bed was getting kinda cramped. 

“Whatever you say,” his brother replied, rolling his eyes.

“She has a good point. One of the main reasons I wanted to come back to Storybrooke was to fix our relationship - to get my best friend back. I don’t see a better way to mend our friendship. By me moving in, we will get to learn about all the things one learns about when they grow up together. Also, I’m not gonna say no to her - not after everything I put her through,” he added.

“Killian…” Liam began but he already knew where his brother was headed. 

“I know, I’m not responsible for what happened in our past. And just like she told me, what you’ve told me also, I can’t keep blaming myself for the way I handled mom’s death and dad’s leaving. I was young and didn’t know better. But, it’s the least I can do to show her just how much I missed her, just how much I care,” he acknowledged. 

Liam had been trying for years to get Killian to stop wallowing in self-pity and hatred and just accept that life dealt him a shit hand. It was hard and he was still struggling. Mostly because he knew so much better now, it frustrated him to no end. 

“And how much do you care about her?” Liam asked, goading him. 

For the past few years, Liam had been trying to get Killian to say those three words about Emma, yet Killian never budged. He knew it was even crazier than moving in with her, than saying he would marry her. He couldn’t say he loved her when their lives had been so screwed up.

“Enough to do this for her,” he replied.

“Fine, you know I’ll support you, even if I think this is a bit crazy. Just promise me you’ll take things slow with her,” he pleaded, giving Killian a knowing look.

“Aye, you know I’ll always be a gentleman,” Killian offered.

“I meant it, Killian,” he warned.

“Ok, you know I am not a child anymore; right, Liam?” he questioned back, trying to not let the words come out as harsh as he thought them. 

“I know, but when you behave like one, it’s hard not to treat you like one,” he countered. “I’m just worried about you, alright? I know Emma is Emma and she is important to you; just make sure you think things through.” 

With that, Liam patted his younger brother on the shoulder and took his leave. 

Killian knew what the tone in his voice meant. He knew exactly why his brother was worried about him. It wasn’t the first time Killian had rushed into things with a woman who he believed he loved and loved him back.

Picking up the last of his items and setting them down in the seabag, he pulled out the box of letters. Shuffling through them, he found the one he wanted, the one that would hopefully help him.

_ Dear Emma,  _

_ I want to tell you something, but I am worried about how you may react. I don’t want to upset you and I don’t want you to be disappointed in me either - but I met someone.  _

_ Her name is Milah and she works with Liam down at the construction yard.  _

_ Emma, I haven’t felt this way about anyone, save you.  _

_ I never thought I would find someone who makes my heart skip a beat when I am with them. I never thought the sun and moon would rise and set with someone. But with Milah, I feel all those things.  _

_ We met a couple of months ago, when Liam first started working there. I thought it was ridiculous for me to tag along, but Liam insisted I come with him to meet everyone at the yard. I guess he wanted to make sure that people knew me and knew our situation. The first person I met was Milah.  _

_ She has long flowing brunette hair and blue eyes that sucked me right in.  _

_ Now I know you’ll say I’m out of my mind for even thinking about her like that, she’s 27, Liam’s age, and I’m only seventeen. But Emma, the attraction between us was instant.  _

_ In that moment, I was hooked.  _

_ I just can’t believe I found someone that makes me feel so good. I was pretty sure my life was going to turn out like shit. I mean, I have no mother, a father who walked out on his kids when their mom got sick, and a brother who had to drop his whole life to take care of his little brother. I didn’t deserve anything from life - yet here I am, completely in love.  _

_ I wonder if other boys thinks about their lives like this? Do they sit there and daydream about a future - a real future, not just sex - with a woman they are completely enamoured with? Do they think about all the things they want to do with that person - from traveling the world to giving them a good, long, joyful life? Because that is what I think about when I think about Milah. I want to give her a wonderful life, one way beyond Ireland and the shit hole I’ve grown up in. I want to give her the world.  _

_ Milah has changed me, Emma, she is making me a better man. For the longest time, I’ve been depressed - thinking that I don’t deserve a life like this. But Milah is making me see that I do deserve more in life - I deserve to be happy, to be loved, to finally be ok.  _

_ At first, I kept trying to get her attention. I found myself going with Liam every weekend to the yard, sitting in the reception trailer and hoping that she would talk to me. When she finally did, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It took a couple of weeks, but she finally asked me to go to dinner with her. I couldn’t believe that this gorgeous woman had asked me on a date, me, a scraggly kid who had nothing going for him. She’s taken a chance on me.  _

_ We’ve been dating for a month now and I cannot believe the love she is giving me.  _

_ But Liam doesn’t know, and I am not quite sure how to tell him. I know he would freak out - she is 27 and I’m 17 - plus she has been married before. He would say I’m way too young to be dating her, he would say I’m crazy to think I’m in love with her. Overall, he would just say I’m crazy! But I know I’m not. It’s not crazy to feel this way.  _

_ All I know is that I like the way I feel when I’m with her. I finally feel alive. I finally feel that I can be happy. I don’t want to give that up, and that is what I’m scared Liam will do if he finds out. He will make us break up and try to parent me too much.  _

_ I really want her to meet you, to meet the person who kept me on track and who supported me. But she would, I’m sure, think that this is crazy. Crazy that I’m writing letters to a girl from my childhood whom i haven’t spoken to in years; yet someone I still consider my best friend. Crazy that I want you to approve and like Milah.  _

_ However, I don’t think that I could do that to you, introduce you to Milah - because I just want my life to be like yours. Not gonna lie, Swan, but I’ve been stalking your MySpace for a while. I’m jealous of your life. You’re always smiling. Your pictures are what keep me going sometimes - seeing you so happy, looking as if my absence hasn’t scared you; which is all I ever wanted. I don’t want how we left things—how I just stopped sending these letters—to ruin your life. I’m sure that it wouldn’t, I mean these are just stupid letters; but seeing you so happy, having the time of your life, makes me feel like maybe I did something right. Maybe, not having you read these letters, by keeping them to myself, I have allowed you to have the life you deserve.  _

_ That is another reason I wouldn’t want to introduce you to Milah. If I came back into your life, I am pretty sure I would just fuck it all up. I would ruin everything you have built, plus ruin everything I have built. The universe has been kind in allowing me a life with Milah after everything I went through and did, but I doubt it would allow me to reconnect with you and pick things right back up where we stopped.  _

_ I know what you’re going to say - Killian, you don’t have to think like that, this wasn’t your fault, you deserve to be happy - everything that would take away the hurt and remorse I feel over everything that happened in our childhoods.  _

_ Man, I sure got off topic here, love. It seems to happen each time I write to you. No matter what, my short letters I want to write to you always turn into long letters that ramble on and on. It seems even with thousands of miles away, I can’t help but tell you everything.  _

_ But, I’m going to stop now. I have a big date with Milah tonight and I need to get ready. Talk to you soon. _

_ Love,  _

_ Killian _


	9. Chapter 9

Emma walked around her house with determination. She wasn’t the messiest person on the planet, but she knew she wasn’t the cleanest either. Dishes sat in the sink from two days prior, laundry was folded but left on the couch of the family room. Her entryway looked as if a hurricane blew threw, as that is where she and Henry dumped all their stuff when they got home. 

She sighed as she put the dishes in the dishwasher. At least she didn’t have to clean up Henry’s room. 

One of the things she loved best about her cottage was that it had a secret basement. Well, not so much of a secret, but it wasn’t listed on the one sheet when she purchased the place, and the small basement was a perfect bedroom for Henry. It gave him his privacy, plus allowed Emma to keep her bathroom for herself, since it was the only one on the main floor. She wouldn’t mind sharing a bathroom with her son, but she doesn’t say no to him having his own. 

The main floor boasted a good sized family room, a small dining area, a lovely kitchen that didn’t get used much (Emma liked to cook but wasn’t the best at it), and a small little breakfast nook. There were two bedrooms down the hall and a sunroom, which Emma enjoyed most of all. She bought a comfy lounger and spent quite a few afternoons in the summer basking in the sun, enjoying the breeze that came through the large open windows. 

It wasn’t much, but it was home.

Thinking it over on the drive back to her house, she had decided on what to tell Henry about her new situation in life. Henry knew about Killian already, so she was just going to tell him he needed a place to stay while the Navy found him quarters. It was a simple little white lie that would protect him in case things didn’t work out with Killian.

While Emma believed in her heart that things between them would work out, her mind told her otherwise. And she knew it was better to be prepared for the worst and expect the best than nothing at all. She knew she could survive the heartbreak, if it ever came; sure it would be hard, but eventually she would pick the pieces back up. But Henry, he was another story. Henry had spent too long forming attachments that never worked out, yet he was always optimistic, never thinking it would keep happening. So whenever people left, he was always heartbroken. She didn’t want that to happen between him and Killian. 

Just as she was setting the last pillow in place on her newly made bed, she heard a timid knock at her door. 

Her heart started skipping around her chest, and her breathing quickened. She knew exactly who was on the other side of that door and it made her nervous. It was a strange feeling, being nervous at Killian Jones knocking on her door. 

He was her best friend. She wanted to marry the guy after all; she couldn’t spend her entire life being nervous around him. However, after their kiss earlier in the day, she couldn’t help it. 

She was pretty sure they were both trying to deny their obvious physical attraction towards each other. At least, on the surface they were trying, but the attraction was too much to overcome. 

So when she had first blurted out her proposal—cause she wasn’t kidding herself, that is what it was—she almost knew he was going to deny her and she would need to do something drastic to get him to say yes. He was too much in his own head for his own good. His mind would overtake his heart and make him say no, but she wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

Yes, there was an additional layer of need on her side, but she also couldn’t deny the pull between them. 

The kiss, though, sealed her fate. It was like a shock to her system, one that revived her from the dead. She had never felt that way about anyone, ever. No one had ever kissed her the way he did, no one had ever made her weak in the knees, even though she was sitting down and didn’t need them. When she had pulled him against her with a force, she wasn’t expecting him to take charge the way he did, to kiss her back with such a passion that she was willing to do anything in the world to get him to kiss her again.She had simply been using the kiss to get that surprised look off his face. She had thought he would simply let the kiss happen, she didn’t expect his lips to move against hers. She didn’t expect him to deepen the kiss. 

That was why she said OK to the rules. Plus, he had a point. There had been way too much history in their past, too much to just ignore like it hadn’t happened. While Emma had forgiven him for what happened—how could she not, he was just a boy when everything fell apart—it didn’t mean she forgot. A part of her, a small little millimeter of brain matter, told her that she should be worried he would do it again. 

Plus, there was Henry to think about, and the agency: she was pretty sure that a rushed marriage wouldn’t look good to the adoption agent. But a marriage that was quick, but built on years of friendship and a couple of weeks testing the waters, may not be such a red flag. 

She shook the thought from her head, starting to hate herself each time she thought about that line of reasoning behind wanting Killian in her life. She didn’t want to play him like that. 

Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob of the front door. She took a deep breath before yanking the door open, allowing the moonlight to filter in. 

Killian stood there in all his glory. He had changed since their date earlier, now wearing an outfit similar to what he wore the night before. She had to admit that the image of him in leather did things to her she wasn’t quite ready to explore. If their short kiss gave her a shock, she knew taking things further would almost kill her. 

“Evening, love; all ready for me?” His eyebrow wiggled a bit, in a suggestive sort of way that made Emma giggle. It was like he was trying to be sexy, but failing at it. 

That wiggle broke the tension that hung in the air. 

“I hope so, sorry about the mess,” she said, looking around at her now immaculate looking foyer. 

She waited nervously for Killian to enter through the rather small passageway. Even though it was cleared of their junk, it was still a small entrance. The white door contrasted against the pale blue-grey house was one of the best parts about her house, but she wished, especially now that Killian’s larger frame was standing in the doorway, that the entrance was just a bit bigger so that his presence wasn’t so intimidating. 

“It’s no problem, love,” he said, moving through the doorway, brushing up against her, sending goosebumps up and down her arms. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, one that she wore around the house when she was trying to be lazy or needed to clean, and some yoga pants. Yet it was like she was freezing cold and a big gust of wind came blowing through. 

They stood there for a couple of moments, letting the evening wash over them. 

“Well, how ‘bout a tour?” he offered, raising his eyebrows again. 

“Alright,” she responded, rather meekly. 

She couldn’t believe how unsure of herself she was feeling. She was in her own house, with a man she wanted to have a life with; yet she felt completely out of sorts. 

“Well, this is the entrance way,” she started with not much excitement as she waved around the space. 

“I can see,” he said jokingly, “shoes on or off?”

“Off please,” she quickly responded. It didn’t really matter though, there was no real hard or fast rule about shoes in her house; there couldn’t be with boys running in and out. 

Once his shoes were taken off and placed neatly along with the others found against the wall, she led him through the house. 

“So, here is the living room, dining room, and kitchen,” she gestured, showing him the large open space. 

As if she heard his stomach growing, or maybe it was her own, she added, “Feel free to grab anything from the kitchen. Anything you need, just write down on the list on the fridge; Sundays are shopping days, so you can go with us tomorrow or you can just let me know what you need.”

“Thanks. I would love to tag along,” he replied with a smile on his face.

“Alright,” she turned to walk down the hallway, stopping at the first door she reached, “these are the stairs to the basement, where Henry’s room and bathroom are. I would show you down there, but I’m not one hundred percent sure what his room would look like,” she confessed.

“Is he normally messy? This place looks so clean for him to be messy,” he wondered.

“No, he is actually pretty organized; not very typical of a teenage boy, but it’s something he picked up at the home. But since I give him more freedom than he was used to, sometimes the room can get a bit cluttered, with the traditional clothes on the floor and old candy wrappers and soda cans strewn about,” she clarified. 

“Lead on, Swan,” he said, wanting to move onto more interesting subjects.

“This door is the half bath for the floor,” she said, pointing to the door next to the basement stairs.

He just nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“The door at the very end of the hall is the sunroom,” she pointed towards the darkness that was filling in the windows of the door, “The door on your right is the guest bedroom, and this, is my room.” She paused for a moment and corrected, “Well, our room, I guess.”

She blushed a bit when she said those words. She never thought that one day she would be saying those words to Killian Jones, let alone any other male. 

He waltzed into the room like he owned the place, comfortable in their silence that had developed. He set his bag down at the foot of her bed—well, their bed. Walking around the room, he took everything in. 

The master bedroom wasn’t really large, but had room for her California king bed and a couple of dressers. Over time, she had decluttered her room, making it a drastic difference from the childhood room Killian probably remembered. 

Her old bedroom had bright pink walls with ballet dancer wallpaper, and had clothes and toys thrown around the room, the toy box her father had made her unused against the wall. He was used to crazy Emma, whose mom tried to make her pick up her mess even though at the time, Emma cleaning meant Emma making more of a mess. 

Thankfully, that had changed over the years. 

She watched him as he walked around the dressers, taking in the small knick knacks she kept on each one. One dresser held her perfume and jewelry, not that she had much of either. She only had one glass bottle of perfume and a few pieces of jewelry that she had received from her mom over the years. 

She watched as Killian toyed with a simple silver cross that hung on the holder. 

“This looks familiar,” he said in almost a whisper, already knowing what Emma’s answer would be.

“It was your mom’s. My mom gave it to me after I graduated from college. She said your mom left it with her to give to me when I did, in case she couldn’t be there,” she replied in a soft voice, not wanting to bring on either of their emotions towards the subject.

Thankfully, he just smiled and pulled her close to him, embracing her tightly. 

He let go quickly, moving back to continue his investigation of his new living quarters. 

The other two dressers held the same items, framed photos of her childhood and friends. She had Mary Margaret and David’s wedding picture, Emma standing beside the bride in a gorgeous blush colored gown. There were a few of Henry from various activities - a soccer picture, with a goal framing her son, a picture of him with Ruby when they had ridden the Tower of Terror from the trip they took to Disney. There was a picture of her parents and her at all of her graduations: from kindergarten to college, a total of five spanning the years. 

One photo stood out - the one she had looked at a million times since her parents found it. It was the photo of her and Killian at Halloween. The smiles on their faces were so bright. Their hands were clasped together, holding one another tight. 

Emma watched as his eyes zeroed in on the framed photograph. The frame was simple, like all the other ones and matched her decor. He slowly reached for the photo, not needing to move any aside. Emma had always kept that photo front and center on her dresser, a reminder of the good times and memories they used to have. 

She bought that frame the day after her mom found the photo. It had sat proudly on her dresser during high school, then was the only photo she kept on her desk at college. She was tempted to bring it with her to school, to display it the way she displayed photos of her childhood pets, parents, Henry, and friends; but the photo meant too much to her to have it there. 

His hands steadily picked up the photo, one hand going to trace the outlines of the kids ingrained in the image. There was a sad smile on his face that Emma studied. 

“What is it?” her question came minutes later after watching him stare at the photo tracing their faces. 

“I just can’t believe you’ve kept this all these years,” he explained, turning to look at her.

She hadn’t realized she had moved closer to him in their silence. 

“Of course I would; when my parents found it before my birthday, I knew I could never part with it. It’s one of my most valuable keepsakes,” she confessed. 

He didn’t say anything.

Instead, he pulled her flush against him, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. It was short lived though. Almost as quick as his lips had attacked her mouth, they were pulling away. Something was telling her that he didn’t want to deepen the kiss, that he didn’t want to let himself get too far out of control. 

“Ummmm, yeah,” Emma said, breaking the awkwardness that surrounded them as the kiss ended, with Killian’s arms still wrapped around her waist. 

He laughed at her comment.

“Anything else to show me, love?” 

She pointed with her finger towards the opaque door that was situated in the middle of her wall, across from the large windows that framed the other side of her room. 

He walked over to open the door to what was now their bathroom. When Emma had bought the house, she knew she was going to need to update some of it. It was a small fixer-upper; nothing too drastic, but she knew the master bath was going to need the update. 

She had Leroy from the local building and construction company handle the update. She let him and his partners decide most of the updates, but she had one request that she wouldn’t budge on. She wanted a large bathtub and a rainfall shower. 

Leroy came through, and now her bathroom was her own personal spa. 

Her thoughts began to turn dirty as she thought of Killian showering in her large shower, water trailing down his chest, his hair soaked and sticking to parts of his face. She thought of him sitting in the giant tub, bubbles surrounding him, the sensual scent of black currant shower gel filling the air. She could picture her back against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her close.

“Love?” She heard coming from the doorway of the bathroom.

“Huh?” she questioned, a bit embarrassed that he caught her daydreaming, thankful that mind reading was just fantasy. “What did you say?”

“I just asked where I should put my stuff?”

“Oh, yeah, ummm…. could you actually keep your stuff in the guest room? I’ve decided to tell Henry that you are simply a friend in need of a place to stay, and if you keep your stuff in there, there will be less questions,” she explained.

“Aye,” he replied quickly with some sadness in his tone.

“Hey,” she started, moving to stand in front of him, still in the door of the bathroom, “just because your stuff is living there doesn’t mean you are.” 

He looked up at her, some hope in those deep blue eyes.

“We said a month of acting like we are married, which means that you sleep here with me,” her confidence shaking a bit with the mention of them in the same bed.

“If the lady insists,” he smiled, back to the Killian she had gotten used to in the past day. 

He leaned down to press a kiss on her cheek before moving to bring his stuff to his pretend room. With the absence of his lips, she moved to sit down on her bed, wondering about their night to come. 

Emma had only shared a bed with two people in her entire life, and it was never for longer than two days. Emma hated sharing a bed with someone. She liked her space, liked to have the room to roll however she wanted, liked being able to stretch out far and wide. The two times she shared her bed, she was miserable the entire time. 

Would Killian want to sleep close to her? What side of the bed would he want to sleep on? Was he a snorer or have sleep apnea? 

Of course, all of those questions could be answered by simply asking him - walking into the other room and just telling him she was nervous about the night, among other things; but instead of facing her fear head on, she sat on her bed, picking at the cuticles around her thumbs. It was a nervous fidget that she knew she should try and break.

She hadn’t noticed him walk back into the room. He stood there leaning against the doorframe to her room, silently watching her. 

“What’s on your mind, Swan?” 

She didn’t answer, just continued to wring her hands and peel at the skin that was hanging on a tiny strand.

Looking up at him, she knew her face told him everything he needed to know, because in an instant, he was sitting down next to her, pulling her hands apart, moving them to intertwine with his. He lifted their joined hands and kissed them lightly. 

“Love, we don’t need to do anything you are uncomfortable with; if you want, I can sleep in the guest room,” he offered.

It warmed her heart to hear him say it. She didn’t want him to sleep in the guest room, but hearing the offer made her mind stop racing. She trusted him, knowing that he wouldn’t do anything unbecoming, but hearing him say it to simply calm some of the darker fears was perfect. 

It gave her the strength to say what was really bothering her. 

“It’s not that, even though I’m thankful to hear it; we just don’t know much about each other. And look at us, acting like we do,” she confessed. 

Maybe she was rushing into this. 

“We know each other; there are just some things we have to relearn, that’s all. It’s just like playing an old video game or rewatching an old show. You know some parts of it, but not all, but give time and it will all come back to you,” he smiled. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she conceded.

“We will figure it all out as we go, just like any normal couple. I promise,” he added, leaning down to press another chaste kiss to her lips.

**********

After her minor freak out, Killian suggested they make some dinner and settle in for the night. 

He was taking the lead, even though Emma was pretty sure he was just as nervous about their new arrangement as she was. 

Yet, as he chopped the veggies and she started on the meat, they fell into a comfortable and easy silence. They moved around the kitchen in a silent dance; Emma always knew where he was without even looking at him, and he moved around her without a second thought, their movements becoming second nature. 

She didn’t have much in her kitchen, since grocery day was Sunday and normally if Henry was home on the weekend, they would order pizza and have a night in while rewatching old movies from Emma’s childhood. Sometimes Henry would plead to watch something  _ from this century _ he said, so Emma would relent and watch a Marvel movie or two. 

Because of the lack of food, they had to settle on something rather simple and uneventful, tacos. 

Once they had finished the cooking, she walked him into the living room.

“We rarely use the dining room,” she explained. “It just seems so stuffy, plus I don’t cook that often.”

“So what do you eat for dinner normally?” He wondered, taking a bite of a taco at the end of his question. 

They sat on her comfortable couch, TV trays set in front of them. She had turned the TV on, a habit more than anything else, and put on a show that was really just background noise but that she and Henry enjoyed watching. 

“Well, Mary Margaret normally makes enough dinner for her and David that Henry and I get leftovers. Sometimes I just throw some chicken and veggies in the crock pot, but I would say we often just eat something simple, whether it’s grilled cheese or a TV dinner.”

“If you don’t mind, I would love to cook you all dinner each night,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. 

“Are you sure? I mean, can you really cook us dinner each night? You don’t have to, Killian,” she tried to fight.

“It’s no problem love; I don’t mind. In fact, I enjoy cooking. I even took a few classes. I got an A in Home Economics in high school,” he said with a wink.

“Well, if you insist,” she replied. 

After dinner had been eaten, their plates cleared and placed in the dishwasher, they walked back down the hallway to the bedroom, a new silence falling over them.

“Did you want to use the bathroom first?” he asked as they entered the room.

“No, that’s OK. I normally shower in the morning,” she whispered, looking around the room.

“Me too, but you are welcome to join me if you need to wash your face or brush your teeth,” he offered.

“Thanks,” was her only response as they walked in tandem into the bathroom and began their nighttime routine.

She wouldn’t really call it awkward, as they moved just how they did in the kitchen. Their bodies moved in sync, no awkwardness there. No, it was Emma’s mind creating the tension in the room, making her silent when all she wanted to do was tell him just how nervous she really was.

She left him for a moment to change, grabbing her clothes from her drawer and slinking down to the guest bathroom to finish her nightly routine, like the coward that she was. 

For a brief moment, she worried about what she wore to bed. Emma wasn’t a PJ type of girl. Most of the time she hated being in clothes at all when she slept, feeling they suffocated her. When Henry moved in, she was worried it would cause some issues, but they quickly came to an understanding that he was to knock and wait before entering her bedroom and she gave him the same respect. The only thing that changed was Emma now kept a robe next to her bed in case. 

But with Killian now sharing her bed, she wasn’t sure if she should be wearing so little clothing, even though she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be upset if she wore just her panties to bed. So instead she wore an old pair of cheer shorts and a sports bra. She didn’t want to make herself even more uncomfortable than she already was. 

With her traditional workout clothes on, and her bladder emptied, she walked back into the room. Killian had closed the bathroom door, but must have been on the other side, because her bed was still empty. 

She wanted to wait to ask which side of the bed he preferred, but was also just wanting to get in before she felt his eyes roam her body. 

The left side of the bed is what she chose, even though it faced the bathroom. 

She closed her eyes and took some steadying breaths, scolding herself for feeling all the nerves that were coursing through her body. After their conversation earlier she thought she would be fine, but now that the moment was upon them, she couldn’t stop the buzzing. 

Her eyes squeezed shut when she heard the door click open. She didn’t want to steal a glance at him, worried that he would read her right away. 

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything to her, padding around to the other side of the bed. 

Emma had turned off the lights as she entered the room, leaving only the lamp on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed on. It cast a soft glow around the room, one that Emma could barely see through her eyelids.

She felt the bed dip as he sat himself down on the bed. There was a long pause before she felt the bed even out as his weight was distributed and the light flicked off. 

Now that darkness enveloped them, she opened her eyes. She must have not felt him move more, because as her lids opened, she saw his outline hovering above her. A small gasp left her mouth as his outline became clear and his face came into focus.

“I know this has been weird, and I know you are nervous about everything, but I promise, Swan, we won’t do anything you are uncomfortable with; but we should both get used to this, because you wanted this, love. However, I’m a patient man and I won’t push you. One thing I will say though is that I am really glad I’m here.” He dipped down closer to her face. “Good night, love.”

With that, not allowing her to get in a word otherwise, he placed a hot kiss to her lips. The kiss wasn’t hard or wanting, but there was a passion behind it. 

He pulled back, rolled to his side and went to sleep.

“Good night,” she responded, a wave of relief washing over body.

**********

What Emma hadn’t expected was that their bodies did more than just move in sync. During the night, while they were both under the cloud of dreams, their bodies move towards one another. An invisible attraction pulled them closer. 

If she had been able to watch a replay of that night she would have seen their bodies slowly move towards the middle of the bed. Emma’s hands reaching out towards him as her body rolled over to face him. Without a moment lost, his body mirrored hers, rolling to face her. Soon, their bodies drifted across the divide and curled around each other. Emma’s face came to rest in the nook of Killian’s chest. She took a deep breath settling into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her smaller frame, pulling her close. Their legs intertwined, causing each of them to get goosebumps. He nuzzled into her hair. 

Neither one of them would let themselves be parted throughout the night. Emma was a restless sleeper, constantly moving as her dreams took her where her mind wondered. As she turned, he moved with her. Soon, she settled into a sleep deeper than she had ever slept before. Killian’s face was still nuzzled into her head, but Emma now faced away from him. Yet, his hold on her was never stronger. His arms reached around, keeping her pinned to him, wedged into the natural curl of his body. 

That’s how they woke up the next morning, each having a soft smile on their lips.


	10. Chapter 10

Domestic bliss was the best term Killian could use to describe the feeling he had waking up to Emma wrapped in his arms. He didn’t want to move as his mind began to fully grasp what was in his arms. 

During the night, they must have needed the feel of each other, because they were now tangled underneath the sheets. Her legs were intertwined with his, even though she was facing away from him. He was silently thankful for that, because if he had been given access to her lips right now, he wasn’t quite sure what he would do to them.

Things had been awkward the previous night, even though they had shared a passionate makeout session only hours before. It was if everything was too real, all too sudden, causing Emma’s walls to spike up higher than they ever had before. Killian wanted nothing more than to break down her walls, but he also knew that if he rushed her too quick, those walls may fortify or may crumble so hard, they ruin her in the process. 

He had some history with pushing someone too hard, too fast. 

Images flashed in his mind of Milah, their relationship playing on fast forward as he held Emma, listening to her sleep. 

Liam had warned him not to go too fast, and Killian had known Liam didn’t just mean sex. He meant giving his heart away. 

He had seen firsthand how Killian changed after the shit with Milah happened. Killian knew his brother’s warning the night before hadn’t been misguided. 

Killian knew he was falling hard and fast for Emma, but he also knew that his feelings for her, the way his feelings developed and evolved, were very different compared to his feelings for Milah. So, while they may have deepened quickly, with no pause or care, he knew that the feelings were based on a lifelong friendship and understanding. 

Leaning forward, he wrapped himself around her more. His nose dug into her hair, breathing in the deep scent that was already driving him wild. She wiggled a bit against him. He was pretty sure she was still sleeping, as her breathing was soft and even. His joy could barely be contained though as she molded into him.

He thought back to the previous night. The smile on his face couldn’t be contained as he remembered their dance as they made dinner, how their bodies were so attuned to each other, responding without a second thought. He just wished that he could get Emma out of her own head. 

He had been nervous too. Hell, the whole way over to her house, his hands shook so bad that he thought he might get into an accident. Thoughts of Emma asking him to marry her, thoughts of her lips crashing against his, and the sparks that buzzed over his skin as their lips danced were all that got Killian safely to her house and out of his head. 

Never in a million years did he expect their little lunch date to end with him knocking on her door, seabag in hand, about to move in with her after seeing her again after almost three decades. 

A million questions rattled through his head as he tried to play cool. As she gave a tour of her home, he couldn’t stop his mind from racing: did she have a set nighttime routine that he was going to fuck up? Did she have crazy rules about laundry and shoes in the house? Did she snore when she slept or hog the covers? 

Thinking back on their childhood, and their many sleepovers, he couldn’t remember her snoring; but you never know what habits someone might pick up. Not that he would mind; nothing could make him not sleep next to her, other than Emma herself. 

He was never going to be anything less than a gentleman, so even though it hurt his heart a bit to offer, he still told her if she didn’t want him in her bed, then he would stay away. 

He was so glad that she said no to that suggestion. 

Especially now that she was nestled under his arms, fitting perfectly into the fold of his body. 

He was a bit embarrassed how much his attraction to her was showing. He was hard; no way of hiding it either. She had to have felt it too, especially the way she was wiggling underneath him, trying to get comfortable. It was making the morning very difficult. He knew he would need a cold shower to get through the day with her.

While he maybe a gentleman, he was still a man, and the thought of her body pressed up against his, Emma moaning the way she did when he had kissed her, drove him crazy. He couldn’t wait till their relationship reached that point; but he wasn’t going to push her. He treasured her more than words could say, his feelings deepening with each passing day, and he didn’t want to ruin it by fucking it up, in more ways than one. 

She turned beneath him. Looking down, he saw her emerald eyes looking up at him. There was a slight smile in them. 

“Morning,” she said, the huskiness in her voice making him harder than he already was. 

“Mmmmm, morning, love,” he responded, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips. 

He didn’t want the kiss to be too passionate, wanting to make sure he didn’t pressure her into anything. 

However, as he went to pull away, her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him back to her. She crashed her lips back to his, parting her lips slightly to allow his tongue access. It was like she knew he couldn’t say no to the invitation. His arms instinctively wrapped back around her waist and pulled her close. 

She hitched a leg up over his hip, moving the apex of her thighs to meet where he was waiting for her. He let out a deep moan, one that was almost a whimper, cutting the silence in the room. He heard her hum a quick acknowledgement before he went back to attacking her mouth. 

To his surprise, she pulled him on top of her, allowing his body to completely cover hers, her legs opening automatically to allow him access. His hands skimmed over the sides of her hips and he pressed himself against her. 

Her kiss was intoxicating, throwing every thought he just had out the window. It was like she was silently begging him to throw caution to the wind. The way her hands were roaming his back, the way her fingers began to tug at the bottom of his shirt, told him that she wanted to be intimate with him just as badly as he wanted to take her.

Yet as she continued to kiss him, soft moans escaping her lungs as his erection pressed against her through her small shorts, he knew they had to stop. He kept hearing himself yell that he couldn’t make this mistake again. 

He silently cursed her for wearing what she had worn to bed. The sports bra accented her perfect chest that he just knew would fit perfectly into the palm of his hands. Her arms were toned - probably still left over from her time in sports, but he could tell she took care of herself. Yet, her choice of top wasn’t the thing he kept his eyes on when he had woken up.

Whoever invented the small cheer shorts that she wore, that had the white band that folded over and sat perfectly against the small of her back and curved at her hips, knew what they were doing. They weren’t long at all, barley brushing her thighs, pooling at the joint between her hips and legs. And they were tight, not leaving anything to Killian’s imagination. 

It was as those thoughts about her shorts filtered through his mind that he pulled back. He looked down at a sight that would normally fill him with ecstasy - Emma’s lips were parted and swollen, her cheeks slightly blushed, her eyes ablaze with want. But he couldn’t bring himself to come back down to her. 

“What?” she finally questioned, and Killian breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t seem annoyed by his abrupt stop. 

He leaned back farther, making the space between them noticeable. He reached up and scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick that he had developed over the years. Sometimes he did it when he was being a flirt, but mostly it had to do with his nerves. 

“Well…” he began but wasn’t quite sure where he should stop, or what to say.

How does one say that they while they would love nothing more than fucking each other all morning, they would rather take their time to make sure that what was between them was more than just lust, or some other feeling that didn’t amount to anything? How was he supposed to say that without looking like a massive asshole? How did he say that he didn’t want to actually make love to her until he was sure they were in love? 

He was pretty sure that was what he was feeling, but what was Emma feeling?

“Hey.” He heard an angelic voice pull him back to what was beneath him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “All I wanted to say was good morning; now how about we go and get a grocery list together and start the day?” 

He was pretty sure he sagged underneath her calm expression and soft words. Whatever did he do to deserve her? The angel beneath him understood his tribulation without having to say a word. She knew what he needed and his emotions. 

“Sounds good to me love,” he said, standing up, heading into the bathroom to take a cold shower. 

**********

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted into the bedroom as Killian came out of the bath, the cold of the shower still being felt on his body in the form of goosebumps. He had changed in the bathroom, not wanting to tempt Emma or himself anymore than they already had. 

Padding through the room, he noted the bed was already made and the room looked as if no one had even been in there the previous night. He made a mental note to make sure to keep everything tidy after he used it. Even if Emma hadn’t been a neat freak, he didn’t want her to feel obligated to clean up after him. 

It was something else he put down on his mental list of things they needed to talk about - chores. He had already discussed their eating situation, but he wanted to make sure he was pulling his own weight, and wanted to make sure they really were living like they were together. He wasn’t half-assing this, he was putting all of his energy into these next few weeks. He wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted to show her just how good life with him could be. 

His seabag rested against the guest room bed. Just looking at that bed, he knew it was not as comfortable as the one he was in last night, even without the pretty girl in the mix. Even though the smell of breakfast waffles through the air, he decided that before anything else, he should unpack. 

There was a set of drawers that matched the bed underneath the window. Thankfully, none of the clothes he brought needed to be hung, so putting them away was quick work. What held him up was that box of letters. It was both a curse and a blessing at times; especially now when he really wanted to join Emma in the kitchen, watching her work, yet the letters called to him. 

He sat down on the bed, verifying what he already knew about it, flipping through the box. His hands fell on the letter he knew would just support his decision to slow things down with Emma, a letter he wrote when his world fell apart for the second time.

_ Emma, _

_ Milah left me. _

_ She fucking left me.  _

_ I’m not sure where to start. I guess from the beginning. _

_ So as you know (well, you know what I mean), Milah and I have been together for four years now. She’s been with me through everything. Hell, I had only been with one other girl when I met her. I gave her everything, poured my heart and soul into our relationship. I was just a lowly seventeen year old when we met. I spent the last four years falling over backwards to please her. _

_ I guess things started to change when we had sex the first time. I thought I was in love with her. I thought she was the one for me - well the second one for me since I knew that we would never happen. My life came alive when she was with me, and when she wasn’t around I felt like a light was gone.  _

_ She was the one to bring it up, to want to have sex. I know that isn’t the same for most lads my age, but I didn’t really want to have sex. At least not until I knew she was really serious about us. I knew during the first year of our relationship she was seeing other people; she didn’t admit it, but I knew a seventeen year old boy wasn’t going to give her everything she deserved.  _

_ But when she asked me when we were “going to get it over with” (her words, and yes I know looking back that those words should have made me run for the hills), I couldn’t deny her. Of course it helped that she was lying naked in my bed.  _

_ We were done in like two minutes and it just didn’t fill me with any feeling. How pathetic was that? Yet, the look on her face when I made her come was what had me coming back each time. Her eyes shone love and devotion. How could I say no to that?  _

_ Things got better when I was eighteen - I researched how to make things better for us not only inside the bedroom but outside as well. I tried to be romantic and adventurous. Milah seemed happy for a while. She smiled like never before. _

_ I know you really don’t want to hear about the sex; but Emma, I couldn’t imagine better. It was during those times where I really felt she connected with me.  _

_ Things were good. _

_ But then I was a fool and started college. Now I know what you would probably say Swan - Killian, college wasn’t something a fool would do, you made the right decision. I know that; but it doesn’t feel that way. Not when I had to change my commitments.  _

_ Freshman year wasn’t too bad, things between Milah and I were good. We partied; well she wanted to party and I wanted to be wherever she was. Every Friday and Saturday night we went out to one house party or another. Any other college kid would love that. Not me. I just wanted Milah.  _

_ Things started to really go to shit at the beginning of this year. I decided my major, and I knew I would need to really study to make sure I graduated in time. I couldn’t be going out every weekend any more. My nights that used to be devoted to Milah now had to be devoted to my studies.  _

_ For the past few months, she had been begging me to move in with her; but Liam talked me out of it each time. He said if I moved in, I would probably quit school and he didn’t want to see me in some dead end job.  _

_ I’m glad he stepped in. _

_ Milah wasn’t though.  _

_ She kept saying I wouldn’t commit to her; she claimed that most couples who had been together four years were married or at least lived together. We fought constantly over it. I tried to make her see that I wanted to finish my degree first. I wanted to make sure that I could support her before we truly got serious.  _

_ I had always planned on proposing to her; I just didn’t expect things to happen the way they did.  _

_ We had a pretty big fight two days ago. Two days ago, she packed her bags and threatened to leave. I went over to her house, excited to be spending the weekend with her; especially since it was the first week we hadn’t been fighting.  _

_ The weekend before we both got pretty drunk and ended up screaming at each other for what felt like hours; but when we both woke up hungover- me on the couch, her in the bed - we came to an understanding. Promises were made.  _

_ But when I walked in on her bags packed, the house she lived in almost bare; I lost it. I thought we were good, we were going to try to do better.  _

_ She told me she was done, that our last fight was a nail in the coffin for her.  _

_ I begged her to stay, begged her to not leave me.  _

_ She wasn’t budging, so I did the only thing I could think of - I proposed. I got down on one knee right there in the middle of her shit house and asked her to be mine forever. The look on her face was pure disbelief. She wasn’t smiling.  _

_ She began to say something; I can’t remember, because I just started talking over her. I told her I didn’t want anyone else; I couldn’t live without her. I told her I couldn’t live one more day without her being my wife. I suggested we head to Vegas.  _

_ First, let me explain somethings. Milah had been telling me she wanted adventure, wanted someone and something to make her feel alive. And while I kneeled there, watching her face unsure of what she was thinking; I thought that this proposal and request to go to Vegas would be seen as adventurous and romantic.  _

_ I knew I had to do something to keep her from walking out of everything we’ve built. _

_ I was absolutely ecstatic when she said yes. The love that shone in her eyes at that moment was all I ever needed. It was just like the looks she used to give me, those looks that I craved for years. _

_ Yes, we had had our ups and down (more downs as of recently) but I knew we were meant to last. I knew it in my heart. So I was willing to do anything to prove it to her; screw Liam and his rules, screw what society thought, screw every doubt she or I had.  _

_ The flight from Dublin to Vegas didn’t seem as long as it really was. Of course, we didn’t have the money for nice seats, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was in my arms and would always be there. I just kept thinking, in a few hours Milah would be mine and all the shit that had happened would be permanently in our past, and all that mattered was the future.  _

_ The worst part was the layover in New York. Three hours anxiously waiting at the gate. Knowing that we were only five hours away from being husband and wife. Milah stayed in my arms the entire time - kissing and touching me - showing me just how happy she was with my proposal.  _

_ Once we arrived in Vegas we checked into some cheap hotel on the old Strip and began to get ready for the ceremony. While in New York, I called a chapel and made a reservation for the following morning. Milah said something about wanting separate rooms the night before - so I didn’t think anything of it. I got us two rooms, then booked a larger, nicer suite for the next night.  _

_ I blew through almost all of my savings.  _

_ The next morning I waited at the chapel. I stood up in the front of that gaudy cheesy chapel, in a smelly rented tux. I waited like a fool. The officiant told me at the beginning that we had ten minutes to get married, as he has a full schedule and the next couple was waiting. I stood there, numb, watching the clock on the back wall tick. Even with one minute left, I thought, hoped even, that Milah would walk through the door.  _

_ I don't even remember walking back to the hotel. I don’t remember much until about two hours ago.  _

_ Before I left for the chapel I checked out of my old room and into the new suite. I knew Milah’s room number so I went by and taped a key to the outside, along with a note.  _

_ I found a note from her on the bed when I walked in. Along with the ring I had given her. Thankfully, it wasn’t my mother’s ring - I could never think of giving her my mother’s ring, not when it belongs to you. Now, I know you are going to say that is crazy; but Swan, my mom wanted you to have that ring, and you know I could never go against her wishes.  _

_ The note wasn’t long, much shorter than even my basic letters to you.  _

_ Not once did she say she was sorry. Not once did she give me a real explanation to what she had done to us. All that she wrote was some bullshit on how she realized she couldn’t go through with it - she couldn’t marry someone who was just doing this because they were scared. She said she deserved better.  _

_ When in reality Swan, I’m the one who deserves better. I deserve someone who loves me for who I am, not for the things I do to try and make a relationship work. I know that, but again, I’m heartbroken and I’m not sure what to do. _

_ Maybe I don’t deserve love. Maybe I will never find someone who understands me. Maybe the universe has decided that I’m too fucked up to be with anyone.  _

_ But what I do know is that I will never rush into anything like this ever again. I can survive this, but I can’t survive it a second time.  _

_ Well love, I have to go now - got a flight to catch. And I have to prepare myself for the talking to of the century from Liam.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Killian _

_ *********** _

He had never been more excited to do grocery shopping. Walking with Emma, hand in hand, up and down the aisles of the store warmed his heart. He was determined to make her realize she could never live without him ever again, simply because she couldn’t live without his cooking. 

It was cocky, he knew that, but he was a pretty good chef. Watching cooking shows passed long hours for him on watch in the middle of the night. 

The couple of women he had dated, and by dated he meant two dates - enough to be able to get fucked and not have to use his hand - had said he was the best cook. And even though he was mostly using those women for something superficial, he was still a gentleman to them. He never kicked them out in the morning or treated them any less than they deserved; however, he always made it known that he wasn’t looking for long term and he wasn’t ever going to fall in love again. 

How wrong he was.

Now, with Emma’s hand wrapped in his, stolen as they walked into the shop, a smile crossing her face when his hand slid naturally into his, he knew he was a goner. 

They had a conversation that morning about his want to help out around the house - to not feel like a guest, but to feel like an actual member of the family. He told her he planned on cooking them dinner each night, if she was ok with it. The way she licked her lips as Killian told her what he planned on cooking told him that she was more than OK with it. He then told her he also wanted to help with laundry and the cleaning. She tried to tell him that he didn’t need to help, but he would hear nothing different. To prove his point, he got up after kissing her forehead to wash the dishes she had used to make the breakfast he devoured. 

He was nervous about the night coming up; more nervous than the previous nights. All those nights had just Emma, but now he was meeting her son. And sure, she may not legally be Henry’s parent, but Killian could tell that Henry was Emma’s son in all the right ways already. She didn’t need a certificate or judge to tell her that Henry was hers. 

He was worried that Henry would judge them for their situation. Killian was pretty sure Henry would be able to tell there was more going on between him and Emma than they were letting on. Sure, middle school kids were too involved in their own lives, but he was also sure Henry would be able to tell that his mom was acting strange or that there was an attraction between the two adults. And knowing how fate liked to play tricks on him, throwing wrenches into the mix when he thinks things are going right, he was pretty sure Henry would walk in on them, or catch Killian on the walk of shame back to his room. There was only one hallway in her house, after all. 

Yet none of those things worried him as much as what Henry would think of him in general. Especially since he really wanted to make this work with Emma. He wanted nothing more than at the end of the month to take Emma into his arms and promise her the world; and he knew that if Henry didn’t approve or agree, then there was no way he could do that. 

Emma said Henry would be home around five, after a long day of playing paintball with Avery. She warned him that her son may be a bit standoffish - especially if he had used all his energy in his games. She explained that Sunday night dinners were normally a very quiet affair that could end with Henry falling asleep at his plate if he had a really good day. 

Killian had planned on making his favorite from childhood - chili. Not only was it pretty simple to make, requiring him to just throw a bunch of food and spices into a slow cooker; but it reminded him of watching football matches (both American and European) with Liam and his dad before everything turned to shit. Every Sunday, the house used to smell of chili. Liam tried to keep up the tradition whenever there was a big match on when they had moved. 

“Mmmmm,” he heard a soft voice come from the entrance to the kitchen as he stirred the items in the cooker.

A small smile formed on his face.

“Killian, that smells amazing!” she exclaimed.

“I tried a new recipe today, added some extra spices into it. I wasn’t sure if Henry liked spicy food or not, so I took out some of my normal spices and added in some that I thought a young lad would enjoy,” the nervousness showing in his voice.

He felt arms encircle his waist, linking fingers in front of his stomach. 

“He’ll love it. Henry isn’t really picky and eats just about anything. Thanks for making this,” she whispered, placing a kiss against his shoulder. 

Before he was able to say anything, or even think about the shivers she sent down his spine with the tender kiss against his shirt, a yell voice rang out in the hall. 

“Mom, I’m home.”

“Let me go talk to him really quick,” Emma whispered.

“Aye, love; I’ll set the table,” he responded as she moved through the entrance. 

The minutes ticked by, he could hear whispering coming from the hallway. Thankfully it didn’t sound like confused or angry whispering - the kind his parents used to do early on before his dad stopped giving a shit. 

He heard a door click close and Emma appeared in the kitchen again, a slight smile on his face.

“So, he knows you are here. He knows your name and that you are staying with us. He knows that we are old friends. That’s about it,” she sighed, moving to sit down at the table he had set. 

He laid out three bowls, already filled with the chili from the pot. He had smaller bowls filled with sour cream, cheese, onions, corn, and salsa. He even had Fritos laid out.

“Hello.”

The voice from the entrance made him turn around. Henry was standing there in the doorway, looking at Killian with confusing eyes. 

“Hello lad, I’m Killian,” he said, standing, as he reached a hand out to Henry.

“Henry,” he said simply. There wasn’t anger in his voice, just confusion. 

“Hope you enjoy chili,” Killian offered, motioning for Henry to sit down. 

There wasn’t assigned seating or anything; Emma had said though that Henry preferred the seat that looked out the window over the sink. Killian had been surprised he didn’t choose the seat that had a pretty decent view of the TV in the living room. Emma explained though that while Henry enjoyed playing video games and he had some favorite TV shows, he preferred books and really wanted to spend dinner talking about his day. 

She explained that once, one of the social workers told her that one of Henry’s foster family sat the kids down in front of the TV each night, making them eat expired TV dinners and would yell at them if they talked during their shows. It reminded Emma very much of Matilda’s family; so when she got Henry home she had said that if he preferred they could just use dinner as their nightly talks if he wanted when she saw him eyeing the TV; he agreed and it had been that way ever since. 

“You cooked?” Henry asked, looking at Killian.

“Aye, I enjoy cooking - so I told your mom while I’m staying with you all I would make dinner every night, if that is OK with you,” he explained.

“That depends on what you make,” Henry replied with a slight laugh in his voice. 

“Well tomorrow I was going to make homemade pizza,” he proposed.

“Then hell yes it’s ok with me!” Henry exclaimed.

“Henry!” Emma scolded. 

It caused both of the men to start laughing. Killian found it endearing that Emma would scold him for saying something as tame as Hell, yet she loved cursing from what he could tell as she drove them to the grocery store earlier that day. He told them to dig in and enjoy the food. It was starting to get cold and his chili was best served piping hot. 

“So Killian, Mom tells me your in the Navy,” Henry stated more of a question than a statement.

“Aye, I am,” he responded.

“How can that be if you aren’t American?” the lad was inquisitive, and he wasn’t offended, even though Emma looked horrified at the question. In fact, he got that question a lot.

“Well, I was actually born here. Same hospital that your mom was born at actually. My mom and dad brought me back to Ireland when I was young and because they are Irish, I am a dual citizen. When I got out of college, I decided on the US Navy and not the Irish Navy,” he explained. 

“Why?” He questioned as he stuffed his face with chili. 

“I wanted to travel, and I knew that the US Navy would allow me to do that, and really travel. Plus, Liam had moved back and I wanted to be able to visit him easily. If I had joined the British Navy, I wouldn’t have been able to see him as much as I have,” he said.

“Who’s Liam?”

“My older brother. He’s ten years older than me, and moved back to Storybrooke when I got out of college.” Killian’s reply brought back memories of Liam packing up that apartment they had lived in, chucking the key at the landlord, cursing the place for even existing. They would have moved out of that apartment, but it was cheap and it helped Liam immensely when sometimes food got a bit expensive. 

“I didn’t know you had visited before,” Emma injected, a pain exposed in her voice. 

He looked over and met her eyes, hoping that she would see his silent explanation. He never visited her or told her, even though he was close by, because he wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

“Well, not Storybrooke, love. Liam always came and met me in New York or Boston.” There was an apology in his voice, a regret. 

“Oh,” she responded, leaving it at that.

“So what do you do?” Henry asked, not noticing the tension forming between the two adults. 

“I’m a lieutenant. I studied naval engineering in college, but I’m not really using that degree. I work on the bridge helping chart courses and working the ship that way,” he explained.

“Cool,” was the only response he received. 

“What about you, lad? Tell me about yourself. Your mom told me a bit, but I would love to hear some more,” Killian questioned. 

“What do you want to know?” Henry countered, and Killian couldn’t blame him - if he had asked the same question, Killian would have been at a loss where to start. 

“How about school - what’s your favorite subject, sport, can I ask who your favorite teacher is?” Killian laughed a bit, hoping to pull Emma out of the silence and anger she was now sulking in.

He could tell she was pissed. She smiled at Henry at the right moments, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and the glow behind those emerald orbs didn’t shine as bright as they had. 

He knew his visits back to the states would upset her. He knew it was cowardly of him to avoid Storybrooke by making Liam come to him; he knew there was no need for him to hide; but he was never quite ready to see Emma again. Plus, he was never around for long when he did visit, and he didn’t want to see her again just to leave so soon, bringing back all of those memories again. 

“Ok,” Henry began, “My favorite subject has to be English. Right now we are reading  _ The Giver.  _ I’ve read it already, but that’s what Mary Margaret, I meant Mrs. Nolan chose for the class. She is letting me read  _ The Lord of the Rings _ trilogy for extra credit though. I like soccer OK, and play for the club after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but I don’t think I’ll play it like professionally. In fact, there is talk of a video game club starting up after winter break, and I want to join that if I can.”

Henry was rattling on. Killian could tell the boy loved school and everything that came with it. He was animated as he went into detail about this new club that wasn’t even a real thing yet. 

“Sounds very exciting,” Killian responded. 

“It is, at least it will be when it starts! There is even talk about getting a Switch - but Principal Gold has to approve it. I hope he will, even if Mr. Scarlett is the advisor,” Henry added, a hint of annoyance lacing his voice. Both he and Killian looked over at Emma with his confession - and thankfully it had pulled her out of her own thoughts. 

“Henry,” she said as a way of warning. 

It seemed as if there was drama at the school that involved more than the typical middle school teenage drama. 

“Sorry, Mom,” he said, but Killian could tell he wasn’t very sorry, “and you can ask me who my favorite teacher is. Mom already knows it’s not her.”

With Henry’s statement, Killian looked over at Emma to catch her rolling her eyes. The look she was giving said while it didn’t surprise her, she was a bit sad it wasn’t her. 

“Then who is?” He questioned. 

“David. Mr. Nolan. He’s mom’s friend and Mary Margaret’s husband. He teaches Social Studies.”

“Any why is that?” Killian asked, curious as to why he didn’t find his own mom the best. 

“Mr. Nolan is laid back, plus he teaches a unit where we get to pretend to sword fight. Plus there is another unit where we get to write, which I love. Science just isn’t that fun to me,” he explained.

Killian watched Emma roll her eyes, which made her look cute. 

For the rest of dinner, they all fell into a comfortable rhythm of conversation and silence while they ate. Every so often, Killian would ask a question or Henry would; but mostly they each enjoyed the company that sat around the table and the food. Dessert was simple enough - some cookies they had picked up at the grocery store. 

“So Killian, how long are you planning on staying here?” Henry had finally asked the question Killian was most nervous to answer. 

“I’ll be here at least a month,” he replied, hoping that Emma would hear the hopefully longer, hopefully forever, in his voice.

“Cool, well I’m going to head to bed, I got some homework to do first though,” Henry said, lifting one last cookie to his lips.

“Alright kid,” Emma said.

“Night guys,” Henry called as he headed down into the basement. 

A chorus a nights rang out, but then silence filled the kitchen as Emma and Killian were left alone. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower, just leave the dishes, I’ll do them in the morning,” Emma’s voice chimed, but it didn’t carry the same weightlessness it had before. Killian could tell she was still a bit upset at everything. 

“Alright, love,” he responded, not telling her that he was going to do the dishes no matter what. 

He watched as she walked from the kitchen, wishing they could go back to an hour ago, when she wasn’t angry with him. Or was she angry with him? He couldn’t know.

Her demeanor had changed when Henry asked about Killian’s travels, but he couldn’t be sure she was upset with him. She seemed annoyed but he couldn’t tell exactly what shifted her mood. He didn’t want to assume anything. 

After the dishes were washed and put away, he made the walk back to the bedroom, hoping he could talk to her about the sudden change in her behavior. 

Growing pains was all it was. At least that is what he told himself. They were going to have to learn the intricacies of one another’s behavior. They were both going to have to learn to let go of what happened in the past: he may have been a coward at times, too worried about what interactions with Emma may cause; but he was no longer that scared, anxious little boy. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for her to get done; she was already sitting on the bed, wearing those shorts and bra that were similar to what she had worn the night before. Her hair was still wet from the shower and the smell of strawberries filled the room.

“What is it love?” He asked, beating around the bush just enough as to not scare her with an outright expression showing he knew she was upset. 

“It’s nothing,” she lied. He could tell. Even though time and distance separated them, Emma had a tell that hadn’t changed over time. She still played with her hands whenever she was nervous or lied. She wrung them together vigorously, allowing the energy pent up inside of her to be released through the rubbing. 

“Swan,” he pleaded, causing her to look up at him, while her hands continued to rubs against each other. 

“It’s stupid,” she claimed, not elaborating more.

“Nothing you have to say is stupid. You’re feelings aren’t stupid. I can tell something is bothering you. From the second Henry asked me about visiting, your entire demeanor shifted,” he came to sit down next to her at his little confession. 

“I was angry,” she began, in a voice just above a whisper, “I was angry that you didn’t come to visit me. I know he’s your brother, and I know it had been years since we had even talked; but something in me had always told me that you would have made an effort to come and see me if you were close, even if we hadn’t spoken in forever. But then I realized that I shouldn’t be upset about that. That I probably would have done the same thing if I was you. If I had visited Ireland, I would not have just come to see you.”

He took her hand in his, in a way that was becoming second nature to him. Threading his fingers through hers. 

“That’s why I never contacted you before now,” he explained. “I was scared, scared of what you would say to me, scared of how you would react. I know it was stupid to think that, but I did. I didn’t want to come into your life and fuck it up. I didn’t want to…. I was scared. It was as simple as that. But, I wish I had. Every single day. I regret not keeping in touch, I regret not coming around when we got older.” He didn’t take his eyes off of her when he spoke, making sure she understood just how much his words meant. 

“I’m sorry, it was stupid,” she said again. 

“Love, it was anything but stupid. I can understand. Like you said, I probably would have felt the same way if you had come to Ireland while I was there and didn’t stop by and say hello. I would be hurt at first, but in the end, I would have understood where you were coming from,” he countered. 

Maybe this is how fate wanted them to meet again. Maybe this was how it was always supposed to play out. Life didn’t want them to reconnect when they were younger. Sure, Killian would have never made the mistakes he had with Milah, but they prepared him, and his heart, for Emma. 

That’s where he wanted to end up, with Emma. 

She smiled at his words; tilting her head down to meet his shoulder. He heard a soft sigh, one of relief and content. 

He removed his hand, and stood. With purpose, he walked around to his side of the bed - silently admitting it felt good to call it his side of the bed - took off his clothes spare his boxer briefs and slid under the covers. 

“Come love, let’s go to bed. Let’s not think anymore on the past. What happened, happened - and while I’m sure we would both change many things, those things got us here, to tonight, so let’s not let them affect us anymore, and enjoy what we have now.”

She just smiled, slid under the covers, and spooned herself against him, fitting perfectly in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11

Monday came too quickly. Everyone always says that, but waking up curled up against Killian, knowing that her alarm was going to break the perfect silence of the room made Emma feel almost murderous. Normally she loved Mondays. She loved getting to start a new week at school. But that day, all she wanted to do was snuggle deeper against the mass of perfect body behind her. 

How was it that in two days’ time, Emma went from being someone who hated to share the bed - so much that the thought of doing it gave her a mini panic attack - to someone who now thought she would never be able to sleep in that bed alone again.

Of course, Killian was the answer. 

The way he held her in his sleep, with enough pressure to make her feel safe and warm without feeling trapped or confined; the way he managed to send goosebumps up her spine at the mere inhale of his breath against her shoulder made her realize that she had been missing out. 

His arms snaked around her hips, pulling her in closer, as if he knew instinctively that she was awake. He didn’t say anything, just like the previous morning, and he didn’t need to. His giant erection said everything she needed to hear.

She wasn’t going to push it though. She thoroughly enjoyed their time the previous morning, but when Killian pulled away from her, she could see in his eyes that while he was physically ready to give her everything, he may still be slightly damaged in the emotional department. 

She wanted him though; even though she slowed down and allowed him his space, she wanted him - desperately.

Never in her lifetime had she wanted someone as much as she wanted him. Sure, she had sex before, and it was pretty decent. But she never felt the attraction towards someone that she did towards him. Even when she would stare at his profile picture for hours, she was more captivated with it than she was with any of her boyfriends. 

Probably because she only ever dated jerks. Neal, Jefferson, August. They were all the same. They may have given her pleasure, but none of them made her heart skip a beat the way Killian did. 

It was probably the way he looked at her. At least, that is what she thought. Killian’s eyes tore into her in a way she never thought possible. He could read her instantly. There wasn’t hiding anything from him. On top of that, the passion he held in his blue eyes was something Emma had only seen once before. It was the stuff stories were made of - a look that claimed someone, a look that said you belonged to one another, and nothing would ever tear you apart.

Mary Margaret and David looked at each other like that. She had caught glimpses of it when she would hang out with them. It was a look that said neither one of them was really living without the other, like life wasn’t worth living if they weren’t together. 

Truthfully, she had always wanted that, but she knew true love wasn’t real. Or, if it was, it was too rare for her. 

That was until she saw the way Killian looked at her. 

It scared her a bit, how deeply he cared for her. She didn’t want to call it love, but she was pretty sure his feelings were almost there. 

It was the reason she didn’t want to get up that morning, it was the reason she had spent all day thinking about blue eyes that looked into her soul, the way none had ever looked at her before. If that was how Killian made her feel, she wanted to wake up feeling that way for the rest of her life.  _ Shit _ , she thought; she was in deep. 

While she was pretty sure his feelings for her were deep, she didn’t think hers were as strong as his. At least emotionally. She knew her physical feeling; like the constant feeling she wanted to jump his bones; were stronger than his. Maybe it was because of how she had to not only protect her own heart, but Henry’s; maybe it was because she had never really had the opportunity to really feel what it was like to have someone hold her the way Killian did; maybe it was just something in her DNA; all she knew was that she was beginning to fall for him.

Sure, she loved Killian. He was her best friend, there would always be those feelings, lurking in the corner of her mind. It was why she was able to forgive him so quickly, it’s what kept her thinking about him all those years, however, the love she had felt for him at one time was nothing compared to what she was feeling for him now. The love she used to have was a friendly love; similar to the love you have for your parents, or siblings. It wasn’t a passionate love, it was a love that bubbled around in your veins causing you to forget every little bad thing that may have happened.

When she walked out of her bedroom an hour after leaving Killian’s side, she found coffee waiting in the pot, hot steam rising off her coffee mug that was already filled. The small hole in the top allowed for some of the heat to escape. She loved the mug that had been chosen.

She had been collecting coffee mugs from Starbucks since she was in college. Anytime they released a travel mug, she got it. One of her cabinets was almost completely filled with mugs, including ones her parents had gotten her on their travels around the world. Yet, her favorite out of all of them was one Henry had made for her with the help of Mary Margaret and David. She had to go out of town for a conference the year before and the couple offered to watch him for her. David had taken Henry out early for hunting and on their way back stopped at Starbucks to get David some coffee and Henry a cake pop. Inside, Henry found the tumbler. It was a simple mug, but allowed the person owning it to personalize the design. Henry spent the weekend decorating the white background, placing a picture of him and Emma right in the middle. She cried when he gave it to her. The words  _ I love you Mom  _ caused her to break down.

Getting ready in the morning was a routine for Emma, and she knew Killian needed to leave for work before she would be ready. He gave her a quick kiss goodbye, struggling to not give into the temptation that they were both feeling. As she felt his lips against hers, and heard the moan escape, she wanted to pull him in closer and demand that they both take the day off to really get to know each other, but she also knew it was better that they take things slowly, especially after the small anxiety attack she had.

Next to her mug was a brown paper bag and a note.

The note was short, but sweet.

_ Emma love, _

_ I am sorry to have to rush out like this. I’ve packed you a lunch, I hope you enjoy it. I wasn’t sure if you had a lunch pail or anything. _

_ I will be thinking of you all day. Getting any work done is going to be a real challenge when all I want to do is spend more time with you. _

_ I also packed Henry a bag that he took with him as he rushed out the door. He said something about needing to meet Avery about a project. _

_ I hope you spend the day thinking of me, the way I am going to be thinking of you. Your kisses are so sweet I am not sure I want to eat my own packed lunch, in fear of losing the feeling of you. _

_ Have a wonderful day and I’ll see you tonight. _

_ _

_ XX Killian _

_ _

Emma smiled down at the note that was written in almost perfect penmanship. She could almost hear his accent in his writing. It warmed her heart that he had told her about Henry, showing he cared enough already. She knew Henry was going to leave before her, but she was wondering why the house was so silent when she left her bathroom after curling her hair. Henry hadn’t run into her room shouting that he was leaving, so Killian must have told him he would relay the message.

She peaked inside the bag to see a couple of plastic containers. She wasn’t sure what filled them, as they were stacked on top of each other. However, there were a couple of leftover cookies wrapped in plastic wrap at the top, which made Emma smile.

Her phone pinged in her bag as she grabbed the rest of her items of her counter and moved to head to work.

_ You have a lot of explaining to do! _

Mary Margaret’s text came through and all Emma could think about was Mary Margaret yelling at her in a Cuban accent, the same way Dezi Arnez used to yell at Lucy. It was like Emma was in her own little episode in  _ I Love Emma _ .

She sent back a thumbs up and started her way to school. It was only a ten minute drive from her home to Storybrooke Middle School, not enough time in her opinion. Emma loved riding in her car, singing along to the music. She had an extensive playlist on Spotify. Every morning she sang along to her favorite songs, getting her in the mood for the upcoming day. She only wished she had longer in the car because ten minutes was not enough time to jam out to Journey in her opinion.

Mary Margaret was waiting outside her classroom door when Emma approached, keys out and ready to unlock the room. Her friend tried to look annoyed at whatever Emma had done, but the woman was too sweet to really look mad. There was still a slight smile on her face, and her eyes were bright and happy. It was a look that a kid would get when looking at their parents after they did something they knew was wrong. A look filled with innocence yet mischief.

“How was your weekend?” she asked as Emma opened the classroom and flipped on the lights.

Emma loved her classroom. It was bigger than others, thanks to the need of lab tables. She was able to have a giant fish tank that sat on the back table. One of her favorite parts of the new school year was having a competition to see which students would get to name their class pets. It was thanks to Mary Margaret that she had so many aquatic life forms anyway. She had suggested that Emma get the animals that were in  _ Finding Nemo _ . So she requested funds from the school to have a saltwater tank, in addition to her freshwater tank she got on her own dime, to show students the differences in biodiversity and ecosystems.

Walking to her table, Emma tried to ignore Mary Margaret’s question, one that she knew held more than just a simple inquiry from a friend. Emma chose to not have a traditional desk in her classroom. Instead, she sat and utilized the demonstration desk, so she didn’t have to walk far.

Mary Margaret’s eyes raised when Emma looked over.

“It was good,” she responded, not giving much away.

“Don’t be coy, Emma - something happened; Henry told David last night,” her friend said, throwing her another look that said  _ I’m not an idiot, Emma; I know about everything. _

_ _

At that moment, she silently cursed getting Henry that phone. Henry had begged Emma for a phone, saying all of his friends had one. It was like she was sixteen again, except she wasn’t begging her parents for something, it was Henry. Emma could remember how she felt when her parents told her no; how she felt like an outcast because her parents didn’t want her having a MySpace or AIM profile. So, she caved, and bought Henry an iPhone. But, unlike most boys his age, he didn’t spend time on it messaging girls on snapchat or being a creep; he used it for his gaming, streaming videos of the different challenges he got into while gaming, and searching information about gaming. He was even obsessed with Pokemon Go, and had begged Emma to take him down to New York one weekend so he could catch some rare Pokemon that he would never find in Storybrooke. Emma had raised a wonderful kid.

“And what did my son say?”

“He said that you had a date over and that said date was now living with you all.” Emma was surprised how calm Mary Margaret was being about all of this. Even the line of questioning was calm for her friend. She would have expected this response from Ruby, but not Mary Margaret. Hell, just the other day, Mary Margaret freaked out when Emma said she had met Killian, so to hear her friend question the new man in her life and the status of his living arrangements in such a clam and even manner freaked her out a bit.

“And?” Emma responded.

“And, why didn’t you tell me?” she questioned. A smile came across the woman’s face and her eyes lit up. Emma could tell the excitement was coming.

“I was going to tell you today at lunch,” Emma said, sending Mary Margaret into the tizzy she had been waiting for.

A squeal escaped Mary Margaret’s lips and she ran to Emma, giving her a hug, causing Emma to wobble a bit on her heels. There were now tears in the woman’s eyes, causing Emma to roll hers.

“What?” she questioned.

“I just never thought I would see the day that you opened yourself up like that. Emma Swan is in love,” she exclaimed.

“I am not in love. Killian just needed a place to stay that’s all. He had been staying with his brother and it was becoming cramped, so I offered him a place to stay,” Emma explained. 

“If you say so,” Mary Margaret countered.

While Emma may have always had the power to know when someone is lying, Mary Margaret could always tell when she was. Not many people were able to read Emma the way her best friend could. She had tried many times in college to lie to Mary Margaret. She never lied about something as big as this, but she had tried to pull the rug over on her a couple of times; but Mary Margaret could always see through the bullshit Emma was serving. And just like that moment, Mary Margaret never called her on it. She always replied  _ If you say so _ and left it at that. Most of the time Emma didn’t care that Mary Margaret knew she was lying, and just left their conversation where it lay, but on the big stuff, Emma always felt guilty lying to her. She knew her friend was only trying to support her. Besides, eventually, Emma always told her the truth. Sometimes it would take a while, or a large amount of alcohol, but the truth always came out.

“Fine,” Emma sighed.

She had said she wanted to keep the arrangement with Killian a secret from her friends, at least until they came to a decision on where they stood, but Emma needed to talk to someone – someone other than Killian.

At first, she thought she could tell Ruby, but that girl had a hard enough time keeping normal secrets; so she couldn’t trust her to keep track of one as big as this. Also, while Ruby was good to talk to, she was sometimes too straight forward. Her focus wasn’t what Emma needed at the moment. Mary Margaret, though, would listen to Emma; she would ask Emma the probing questions that would get Emma to admit things she didn’t even know she felt.

“So, at dinner the other night, Killian said something that got me thinking about our relationship,” she began, and Mary Margaret’s nod told her to continue. “When we were younger, Killian promised he would come back one day and marry me – for real.”

Mary Margaret’s jaw dropped to the floor. Emma smiled a bit at her reaction; it was rare that Mary Margaret was so surprised by something. Once she had gotten over the initial shock of a proposal, her best friend let out a soft  _ ah _ . She had told Mary Margaret about her past “wedding” to Killian during one drunken night in college; and Mary Margaret can’t hold her liquor, so Emma thought she forgot about it. But now that her friend was sober, she was a lot more aware of what Emma was saying.

Emma was in for it now.

Mary Margaret had always wanted Emma to have exactly what she had with David. She wanted to see Emma married to her “true love,” pregnant and barefoot, padding around her kitchen. It was something she always brought up whenever she visited Emma’s home; she would walk down through the hallway into the second bedroom and comment how it was the perfect size for a nursery. For a while, it bothered Emma so much that she insisted they only eat at the Nolan’s. She knew Mary Margaret only wanted to see her happy, but Emma had come to terms that she would probably never find someone that made her stop in her tracks the way David made Mary Margaret. That was, until a few nights ago.

Waking up next to Killian, falling asleep with him there made Emma wish she had what they had; made her wish that she could turn back the clock and be with him sooner – that she had left the country after high school to attend college in Ireland, or chase after him in some way. Looking back at all the wasted time, she hated herself for letting him go the way she did. Yet, she knew that things wouldn’t be the way they were now if they hadn’t had time to grow up apart.

“We were stupid kids,” Emma responded, unsure of what to say next.

“You weren’t stupid kids; it’s cute, actually. You loved him even back then,” she responded, taking a seat in the front of the classroom, like she was waiting for Emma to teach her something she didn’t already know.

“I guess you could call it that. He was my best friend. He got me. I never had to say what was wrong when Killian was around because he already knew.” There was a tone in her voice when she spoke about their past that she couldn’t place. She had never spoken about anyone this way.

“So, he’s back and what? He wants to marry you for real?” she asked.

“Yeah, he does,” Emma whispered, but not quiet enough for her best friend to not hear her.

The squeal that came out of Mary Margaret’s lips was decibels above her squeal from earlier. The shriek pierced the air and her friend was way too giddy with excitement. She jumped up from the seat she had just sat down in and did a little dance before she came to Emma – who was still standing at her desk, looking at her friend in confusion.

Well, slight confusion. She knew Mary Margaret would be happy that Emma was finally on the “right path” – according to Mary Margaret – but she didn’t expect her to have no negative reaction. She at least thought she would get the gaping mouth again, like her previous confession. Maybe it was just that Mary Margaret had been patiently waiting for the point of the story, or maybe she had already guessed what had been happening – either way, Emma was expecting a harsher response – one that called for patience and a jump back into reality.

“Oh Emma, that’s wonderful! He wants to marry you – oh, tell me everything! What did he say? How did he do it? What did you say? When’s the wedding?” Just like the other day, Mary Margaret let her excitement get the best of her. When she was excited like this, she turned into a yappy Chihuahua, not pausing to take a breath and getting overly excited over something with so few details.

Emma rolled her eyes a bit as Mary Margaret continued to ask question after question. Emma pulled out her chair that was behind the demonstration desk and took a seat. She knew that she had to let Mary Margaret talk herself down.

“Sorry,” Mary Margaret finally said when she took in Emma sitting down with her arms crossed.

Her friend meant well, cared about her; but also knew she could sometimes overdo her emotions.

“It’s OK,” Emma smiled, unfolding her arms and leaning forward.

“Hmmm, now where should I start? You had so many questions,” Emma responded with a bit of sarcasm, smiling at Mary Margaret, who had thankfully sat back down across from her. “First, I know it’s kind weird that we are even talking about this. Especially after I have only known him again for a few days. But things just feel right.”

As she explained, Mary Margaret’s face beamed. It was contagious. Yes, Emma had been feeling very nervous about all of this - how could she not? But seeing how happy Mary Margaret was for her, seeing her friend’s excitement over love finally coming into Emma’s life, suppressed those feelings.

“Secondly, we haven’t planned anything, because there wasn’t really a question,” Emma explained.

“What do you mean there was no question? He asked you to marry him, right?” she questioned, a bit of annoyance lacing her voice.

“Well, not really. We were talking about life when Killian asked if I remembered our childhood promise. It caught me off guard a bit and kinda threw a wrench into the night. But, as he walked to my car, I thought about it. If Killian really did want to marry me, would I really say no? I knew I couldn’t. He is my oldest friend. He knows me better than anyone else does, including you; even though we’ve been apart for years,” she spoke, hoping to not hurt her friend’s feelings. But, it was true. She loved Mary Margaret, and was very thankful for her friendship; but the woman didn’t get Emma the way Killian did.

Over the past few days, Emma had seen that the connection that was between them was still as strong as it used to be when they were younger. Killian knew instantly when something was wrong with her; he also seemed to know exactly what was bothering her before she even realized it herself. It was how he knew she was upset about his nonvisits before she even wanted to admit it to herself.

“Ok, so he didn’t ask you directly?” she asked for clarification.

“I guess, he said he was joking, so I decided to joke with him – I told him if he was serious, I would,” Emma smiled at the confession, because she really was joking at first.

“So what does that mean then? You aren’t getting married? But he is living with you,” Mary Margaret was still confused.

“Let me finish,” Emma huffed. “So of course, my little joke stunned him a bit, but got us both thinking about it. The next day, you know I had plans with him that afternoon; after everything went well at brunch, I decided that you had been right all along.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have been fighting love and relationships for years. I know it’s stupid; but since Neal fucked up everything, I’ve been living as if I don’t need a relationship to be happy, or at least living as if a relationship can’t help. But, you were right. In college you told me I can’t stop fate and once I found the right guy, I would know. As I was driving, I realized something. Maybe Killian has always been the one for me. Maybe fate, or destiny, or whatever the hell you want to call it; maybe it decided that it was finally time for Killian and I to be together. I wasn’t 100% sure that he thought the same about me, and I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not about the whole promise, so I just asked him,” Emma confessed.

Mary Margaret was stunned again. It was surely going to be a morning she would never forget in her life. First, Emma was living with a guy whom she had a “relationship” with; second, Emma had told her that she was right; now, Emma was confessing to asking a man to marry her.

Now, Mary Margaret wasn’t against the idea that a woman could ask a man to marry her, she was very much a feminist; but the idea that Emma would ask a man to marry her was just mind-boggling. Emma had never been the relationship type of person; and while Mary Margaret had wished Emma would find someone that made her smile and feel the way David made Mary Margaret feel, she knew she was grasping at straws (didn’t stop her from trying to set Emma up, though). In a matter of days, Killian made Emma do a complete 180 in her thoughts on men and relationships; and Mary Margaret couldn’t contain her excitement.

“You asked him?” she asked, wanting to make sure she really did hear it right.

“Yes,” Emma rolled her eyes again, the torment of the questioning getting old.

“And he said yes?”

“Well, not exactly. I kinda attacked him,” she blushed.

Instead of asking any more clarifying questions, Mary Margaret just arched an eyebrow, telling Emma to continue with her story.

“I could tell he was over thinking everything – so I kissed him. I didn’t want him thinking. He always did that when we were young. I was always the mischievous one – jumping from trees and willing to do anything once without thinking, whereas he was always the one to think about what may happen. You know, there was a time when I thought we should climb a tree in the park near our homes. It was one we hadn’t climbed before, but I wanted to climb it. It was one of the biggest in the area. I was running right up to it, taunting Killian to join me; yet he kept saying we needed to make sure it was safe first. That same look I saw when I was five, I saw Saturday afternoon. I didn’t want him debating himself out of it,” Emma explained.

“Ok, so what happened?”

“Well, he said he had always dreamed of marrying me, that he had always thought about it, but never thought it would happen. He also said he didn’t want to screw anything up, so we should try it out first,” she said.

“So that is why he is living with you?” Mary Margaret pondered.

“Yeah. For thirty days, we are going to act like a married couple. We are doing a trial run. And, if at the end of the month, things are working out, we will get married,” Emma smiled, sending up a small prayer to whatever Gods may be listening, asking for them to make it the thirty days.

“And what does Henry think of all this?” There was a scolding tone behind the question.

“Henry doesn’t know. And he isn’t going to know either,” Emma began. “You are the only one who knows, actually. We aren’t telling anyone. Shit, I wasn’t even supposed to tell you anything – but I can’t lie to you.”

“If Henry finds out, he is going to be pissed,” Mary Margaret countered.

“I know, but we didn’t want anyone influencing our decision. Killian was right; we needed to not jump into this. We need to make sure that it’s what we really want. I don’t want to screw this up, and I know that if I told anyone – well apart from you – that I would be setting myself up for failure,” Emma countered.

“Alright,” she conceded.

“Really?” Emma wondered, rarely did Mary Margaret conceded the way she did. Emma was kinda hoping that Mary Margaret would tell her that what she was doing was stupid, since a small part of her did think that.

“Of course! If you are happy, then I am happy. Sure, I may not 100% understand what you are doing; but it is kind of romantic if you think about it. Childhood crush promises to come back and make good on a promise one day and they have to get to know each other better in a short amount of time. Hell, Emma, that is what romance dramas are based on,” her friend smiled, standing up to walk over. “I understand your hesitation to tell anyone – we all know Ruby can’t keep a secret for crap – just don’t forget you can always talk to us if you need to. You say Killian was the over thinker out of the two of you; but you probably do just as much overthinking as he does – just in different areas in your life.”

The bell shrilled inside the room, signaling the start of the school day. They had ten minutes until the students would start infiltrating their rooms for homeroom.

Mary Margaret hugged Emma tightly. “I’m so happy for you.”

Emma smiled as her friend left, happy that she was able to tell someone. Happy that things were finally starting to fall into place.

**********

The rest of the week went by at the same rate that Monday did. Nothing exciting happened, but it didn’t stop Emma from smiling as she left the school on Friday.

Monday night had her, Killian, and Henry eating homemade pizza and talking about Henry’s upcoming field trip to Financial Park – an “amusement” park that was designed to teach middle school children how to budget and run an economy. David had found the place a few years earlier and ever since had taken the kids each year. Henry was claiming it was a stupid field trip. Who wanted to go to an educational amusement park? No one, that’s who – at least according to Henry. Emma knew though that the experience would be good for him.

Emma was shocked, though, when a question came from Henry’s mouth.

“Would you go with us Killian?” he asked before stuffing his mouth with a slice of pizza.

Emma was sure if anyone looked over at her during the question, they would have seen someone who had just been slapped in the face. Henry had never asked her to go on a field trip before, and now he was asking Killian.

“You mean like a chaperone?” Killian questioned.

“Yeah,” he said. “Mr. Nolan was saying that there weren’t enough teachers to go and he needed chaperones. I thought about you right away.”

Killian’s smile was too big to contain. Emma’s matched when she saw the joy in his eyes.

“Well then, of course I’ll go with you, lad,” Killian answered after he took a few deep breaths – which Emma was pretty sure he took to calm himself from the excitement.

She didn’t have to tell Killian just how big of a deal it was that Henry asked Killian to go with him. She didn’t have to tell Killian how it was hard for Henry to form relationships with people – especially adults. She didn’t have to tell him that Henry’s time in the system had changed how he looked at people. Killian already knew.

“Even though you won’t be living here?” Henry had to ask him the question that Emma was scared to ask herself.

What if their situation didn’t work out? What if, after a month of living together, they decided that they weren’t meant to be and he moved out? Emma didn’t want to think about that. She wanted to keep thinking that in a month she would be getting married, and getting one step closer to adopting Henry. And seeing the way that Henry was looking at Killian, she really hoped that it would happen.

“Aye, even if I am not living here,” he replied, giving them both the reassurance they needed.

Even if things didn’t work out between them; she wanted Henry to not be affected. It was one of the main reasons she rarely dated. She didn’t want him becoming attached to anyone that might not be around in a couple of weeks. But Killian was her friend, her oldest friend – and deep inside, she knew that even if they didn’t work out romantically, he would always be her friend.

Tuesday began the same way Monday did – with Emma waking up wrapped in Killian’s arms. Again, she had to fight the need to ask him to ravish her. He did kiss her passionately before he let her get out of bed to get ready. The way his lips moved against hers had her almost begging. Yet, she enjoyed just kissing him. It was like she was back in high school - making out with a boy on her bed, not wanting to go any further in case they got caught.

Before she knew it, it was Friday and there was a message from Killian.

Every day since Monday, he had left her a cute little note with her lunch. She kept each one – one inside of her planner that told her he couldn’t get her kisses out of his head. Another she kept in her purse. Another she pasted up in her cabinet at school, next to the mirror where she hung up her coat; it told her how beautiful she was and how she was captivating. He was seriously spoiling her with the compliments, but she wasn’t going to complain.

She had never had someone talk to her the way Killian did. Not only did he leave these little notes, but he told her every chance he got – when she was washing the dishes after dinner, as she folded the laundry, as she walked outside to collect the trashcans. Each time, she blushed.

The text she had received during lunch told her to not make plans for the next evening. He had planned a romantic evening.

She was clutching her phone, a huge smile plastered on her face when Henry walked in her classroom.

“Hey Mom,” he sang.

She didn’t notice him at first, causing him to ask again.

“Oh, hey, kid,” she responded.

“What is it? Why are you smiling like that?” Henry asked.

“I’m not smiling like anything,” she said, quickly trying to correct her face. “So, what are your plans for the weekend?”

“Why, you got a hot date with Killian?” his question came out and surprised Emma. He was unashamed of asking; in fact there was a laughter to his voice.

Emma wasn’t able to respond. Did Henry really just figure out what was going on with the adults in his house, or was he just kidding around?

“You two aren’t very sneaky, you know.” His confession was all Emma needed to start hyperventilating; worried about what her son may think. This was exactly what she was concerned about.

He was right though. All those notes he left her, all the little compliments that were given in whispers weren’t really stealthy. Emma didn’t realize it at the time, but Henry was usually in the room when Killian would say something. Hell, he probably saw all the notes Killian left her.  _ Shit _ , she thought, especially thinking about the note that talked about her kisses. That wasn’t something she ever wanted Henry to read. It was like how she never wanted to know about her parents and their sex life. Sure, as she got older, she realized her parents had to have sex – how else would they have been “trying” to have kids – but she never wanted to know about it. She didn’t even like watching them kiss. So, if she was in Henry’s shoes, and read a note from her dad to her mom about them kissing, she probably would have thrown up. So how was he being so nonchalant about it?

“Henry…” she tried to start explaining the situation but no words came out. She just stared at her son, noting his smile and the brightness in his hazel eyes.

“It’s OK, Mom,” he said, reaching out to place his hands on hers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she began. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. It’s always been me and you. I didn’t want anything to change us.”

“Like I said, it’s OK,” he smiled.

“You mean you’re OK with Killian and I dating, and him living with us?” How was it that she had a kid like him?

“I kinda figured that he was more than just a friend when I met him. He couldn’t stop looking at you. He makes you happy; that’s all I care about.” With his words, the bell rang, signaling the start of the next class period.

“Thanks, kid,” Emma replied.

“And I’ll ask Avery if I can stay the weekend again,” he said with a wink as he walked to his seat.

*********

She was hoping that tonight would be the night. The night where they finally found out if they were truly compatible. If the sparks that ignited around each other could cause a fire or would be quickly extinguished. Especially after the previous night’s activities. 

On Thursday, Emma finally had to take things into her own hands, quite literally. She was frustrated. The sexual tension between them had come to the highest it had been. She had been washing the dishes after another delicious meal that Killian had made. Henry had said something about needing finish a book report and retreated to his room. That left Killian sitting at the table staring at her. She knew he was staring, too. He wasn’t trying to hide that. His eyes roamed over her body.

Maybe she had worn the dress on purpose.

She rarely wore dresses to school – they limited her mobility and she needed mobility in the science lab. But, she had a parent teacher conference that afternoon with a rather unruly child; so she picked out a dress. This dress was made for her.

It was a black and grey and fit tight against her body. The cap sleeves accented her strong arms. The fake a lapels of the grey top looked as if they could be on a man’s suit; which made Emma feel powerful. There was a straight cut against her chest, which showed off just a slight amount of cleavage. The black skirt hit high on her waist, and showed off the small amount of curves she had.

Killian had been caught staring at her ass in the dress multiple times since she arrived home. Because of the tight fit of the dress; her ass looked even better than it normally did.

Emma was blessed with good genes. She really didn’t have to work out to get the trimmed body she sported. That didn’t mean she didn’t exercise – she just didn’t have to work really hard at it. She went every other day after school, using the middle schools weight room that they shared with the high school. She spent thirty minutes using weights and another thirty minutes running on the elliptical.

This week though, with Killian being here, and Emma not wanting to miss a minute of his company, she skipped the gym.

When she arrived home late, thanks to the irate parent who refused to hear that her precious son was misbehaving in all of his classes, she was met with a wonderful aroma. Killian had made homemade Chinese food. She didn’t want to wait any longer to eat, so instead of changing, she took a seat with the two guys sitting at the dining table and dove in.

She had watched as Killian took in her figure as she came to the dining table. Every time she got up to get something, she caught him staring.

As she washed the dishes that were left over, she thought he might do something. His eyes were burning into her, so she was pretty sure his touch would sizzle if he made contact.

She felt him move towards her; the hairs on her arms were standing at attention as he inched closer to her. Her hair framed her face, so she wasn’t sure what he was doing behind her exactly. But, she could still feel his eyes on her.

Suddenly she felt a large hand wrap around her stomach, pulling her back from the sink and the dirty dishes that laid waiting. His lips were instantly on her neck, pressing small kisses into her skin. She shivered from the contact, goosebumps rising.

“You look positively ravishing today, love,” he whispered into her ear, making her lean her head back. It came to rest on his shoulder and his arms snaked farther around her waist.

“Hmmm,” was all she was able to get out.

He twirled her around and kissed her. His hands came up from her waist to grasp her hair, pulling her head back to give him deeper access to her mouth. Her hands gripped his t-shirt, which he had changed into when he got home. She had only seen him in his uniform once since he moved in and it annoyed her a bit because he looked good in that uniform. Yet, the shirt he was wearing now was soft and Emma could feel his strength beneath it. She made a mental note to “borrow” that shirt.

His tongue danced with hers, his teeth nipped at her bottom lip, his hips pushed against hers. Her mind was starting to go blank.

His hands moved from her hair to her waist again, this time picking her up as if she was a ragdoll and placing her on the counter.

Within seconds, he was back, devouring her. Her legs instinctively opened up to allow him to move closer. The shirt she was still grasping with her hand was seconds away from being a wrinkled mess on the floor. The skirt of her dress was riding up and the tops of her thighs were exposed. One of his hands traced a line from the top of her pantyhose that was held in pace with a garter belt to the hem of her dress.

His other hand was working its way back up her body, grasping at her breast. He pushed with his hand, sending shocks through Emma’s system as she felt him touch her, just as he moved his hips, teasing her through her panties. She was about to suggest they go to their room when a call came out from the hallway.

“Mom, my computer’s broken,” Henry shouted before appearing in the doorway.

Emma jumped down from the counter and had pushed herself far enough away from Killian to hopefully shield Henry from the truth – if only she had known he already knew – and started toward her son.

“Aye, let’s go take a look,” Killian responded, turning to shoot Emma a wink as he disappeared from the room.

She huffed a bit, blowing a piece of hair that had fallen in her face from its spot. She was frustrated. She wanted Killian; wanted to know what it would feel like to be pinned underneath of him, wanted to feel his hot kisses trailing down her body. She wanted to shake from ecstasy as he had his way with her.

Emma Swan was horny.

She walked down to the bedroom; hoping that she would be able to meet Killian there and finish what they started. She changed in the darkness of the room, not wanting to turn on the lights and face reality. The darkness held the sensual mood that had once been in the kitchen. She decided tonight wasn’t the night for her traditional sleep attire, but for a slutty little piece of lingerie that she had gotten on her last trip into the city. It was something she did whenever she went into Boston with the girls. She would go to this little boutique and buy a pair of sexy panties and a bra. She didn’t have anyone to show them off to; but she loved the way she looked in them and the confidence they gave her. So far, she had over 20 outfits in her dresser drawer that she was waiting to try on for a special someone; and she thought she had finally found the person who deserved to see her in them.

She had worn one little outfit to school today, underneath her black and grey dress. She didn’t think Killian would get to see her in the dress, since most of the time when she got home from school, she changed quickly while Killian waited in the living room to hear about her day; but she was feeling sexy and decided it would be fun. Plus, maybe he would get to see if it tempted him into joining her in the bedroom. It was why she had worn the dress in the first place. She had hoped that Killian would be distracted enough by the dress to follow her into the bedroom and watch her change, seeing the surprise she had on underneath the dress for him. There was no way he would say no to Emma looking the way she did.

Too bad that stupid conference threw her plan for a spin.

Instead, she had to work with what she was dealt.

Now she just had to plan out how Killian was going to find her. Would she be lying on the bed with her stockings still on? Would she be waiting under the covers so that he would find her out as he slid in behind her? Would she wait in the bathroom and then walk out as he came into the room, showing off the outfit as a whole?

All of the ideas were good ones, but she wasn’t quite sure which one Killian wouldn’t be able to refuse.

She had decided to wait in the bathroom. In there, she was able to sit down and pump herself up.

It felt like forever before Emma took a glance at the phone she had brought into the room with her. It had been almost thirty minutes since she came into the bathroom, which meant it had been at least forty since Killian went down stairs with Henry. That was forty minutes without his hands on her body and it annoyed her. 

The longer she waited, the more frustrated she got. What was taking him so long? She was pretty sure that all Henry’s computer needed was a restart. It should have taken him a few minutes to turn off the computer and reboot the thing. It was a newer computer that Emma got Henry when she first fostered him.

The feelings from earlier were starting to dwindle, the passion and excitement diminishing. She was sitting in a lighted bathroom, in sexy lingerie, waiting for Killian, and he was taking forever. The tightness in her belly was only getting heavier. The wetness between her legs was still there, but she wished Killian was there with her to see how turned on she was just thinking about the things they would do together.

Emma’s hands acted as if they had a mind of their own. They began to raise to feel her own breasts, but Emma imagined it was Killian. One hand dropped and began the same path that Killian’s hand did earlier that evening. Her fingers dusted across her panties, sending sparks through her system, her hips bucking instinctually. She continued to move her fingers, as her hand grasped her breast through her lace bra. The lace rubbing against her nipple caused it to peak. She was thinking about everything she wanted Killian to do to her.

She thought about him taking her right there in the bathroom if he happened to walk in on her touching herself. She thought about them together in the shower, suds running down their bodies as he pounded into her from behind, her hands splayed against the shower door. She pictured them in her large tub, his head thrown back as she rode him. She saw them on her bed, with his head in between her legs, sucking and licking her until she begged him to stop, until she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted him to push her to her limits, to really take her in a way she needed to be taken. She wanted him to whisper dirty secrets in her ear as she leaned on all fours, his cock slowly dragging in and out.

She pressed her lips together tightly, in order to muffle the sound of her orgasm as she came , her hand leaving her breast and grasping at the sink for help.

It had been ages since she had an orgasm like that. Sure, she masturbated occasionally, she did have needs; but she never came so hard, especially not without a toy or a man.

The orgasm that she had was well welcomed, and relieved Emma a bit. She wondered where Killian was.

She peaked out the door to see Killian lying in bed, fast asleep.

_ Fuck,  _ she thought to herself,  _ he’s been here the whole time. _

Her feet didn’t make any noise as she walked over to where he lay. His shirt from earlier was balled up on the floor. Emma picked it up and put it on. The soft feel of the cotton made her smile. The scent of him wafted over her. How long had he been in bed?

She wanted to wake him, wanted to finish what they had started in the kitchen, but he looked so peaceful. His lips were parted slightly and a small smile was there.

So, instead of waking him, she just crawled into bed with him, his shirt and her lingerie still on. Who knew, maybe there would be time in the morning.

As she wiggled herself into a comfortable position, she heard Killian move. Turning to him, she saw that he was still asleep, but his body must have sensed her presence, because he was now facing her, his body on it’s side, arms moved to welcome her into his chest. Emma scooted over to place herself between his arms.

Sleep was beginning to take over as she heard Killian whisper something. It was mumbled as he was still dreaming, but she could have sworn he said  _ I love you _ .

**********

She arrived home, noting Killian’s car sitting in the driveway. It looked good sitting in the spot, right in front of Emma’s house. His Jeep wrangler was a deep blue color and it didn’t have it’s top on. Emma had never ridden in a car without a top, and she hoped they would take his car out that night. The night was already setting in. The sun hung low in the sky, casting gorgeous colors across the clouds. The breeze was slow, but brought in some cooler air from the sea. It was early October and they had been lucky that the weather was still nice. Emma could remember one year where it actually snowed for Halloween.

Entering her house, she heard music coming through the speakers that were sitting in her living room. She had never pegged Killian for a country type of guy, yet Luke Bryan crooned through the speakers. The song felt right for the night that was starting.

“Killian?” she yelled, dropping her bag in the entryway and kicking off her shoes.

She heard him respond from the bedroom and headed that way to find him. When she entered, he was sitting on the bed, pulling on his boots.

“Hey,” she said.

“You ready for tonight?” he asked, a smirk appearing on his face. He was up to something. Emma just knew it.

She just smiled at him from the doorway.

He stood up and she took him in. His hair was getting too long and she knew he would need it cut soon, but she liked it. His blue eyes sparkled, the lining of charcoal around his lids made them pop even more than they normally did. His clothes were casual, the green of the shirt stretched nicely across his chest. A bit of chest hair poked out the top.

His boots made a light sound as he came to stand in front of her. She couldn’t meet him in the eyes, knowing that if she did, a huge grin would appear on her face, giving away her happiness, a happiness she wasn’t willing to admit yet.

“Well?” he said, pulling her chin up, making her look at him.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Do I need to change?” she questioned, looking back down at what she was wearing. She had been wearing her favorite pair of jeans and a green top that matched his. She wondered if he had picked out the shirt based on what he saw her picking out the night before.

“No, you look wonderful,” he smirked. “And you don’t need to change.”

She wanted to crash against his lips at that moment, not wanting to leave the bedroom. She wanted to stay where they were, in their little bubble. She had already felt the attraction between them begin to ignite when she entered the room and she didn’t want to lose it. The way she felt in the room was something she wanted to grow. The bubbling in her lower stomach grew as each second passed.

Killian, though, was on a mission. He grabbed her hand and led her down to his Jeep. The only stop they made was to grab her purse from the entryway, picking up two hats and sunglasses as well.

Emma was giddy with excitement as she climbed up into the Jeep and buckled her seatbelt. Her cap was secured on her head, her makeshift ponytail popping out of the back.

“So, where are you taking me tonight?” she asked as Killian climbed into the driver’s seat and started the ignition.

“It’s a surprise, Swan, but trust me, you’ll love it,” he smiled as he put the car and gear and backed out of the driveway.

The drive to Killian’s mysterious date was a thrill ride. Emma wanted to throw her hands up and feel the breeze on her fingers. She wanted to pull herself up and bask in the diminishing sunlight that was coming through the trees. Her hair whipped around her head even though the hat was keeping most of it in place. The smell of the asphalt and engine was something she had never experienced before and Emma didn’t think it would smell as wonderful as it did. If Emma had to put a scent to a mood, what she was smelling was adventure and new beginnings.

Storybrooke was a pretty small town; going anywhere will take less than twenty minutes. So as they hit the forty minute mark on being in the car, Emma’s excitement over the date grew. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy a nice night in their town, she just wanted more.

After an hour of driving, they pulled into the parking lot of one of Emma’s favorite places – Dave and Buster’s. She loved playing games there, plus the food was decent and the drinks strong and cheap. The atmosphere was what she went for, though. It was rare that she got to go there, since it was an hour away and she always spent too much money there. But, at least once every two months, she packed Henry into her car and they spent the night playing games and binge eating appetizers. Henry always stuck to the driving and shooting games, while Emma liked the coin dozers and trivia games. At the end of the night, they would pool their tickets and get a prize for the house. In fact, there was a little stuffed penguin in the guest room that they won the last time they went there.

Emma’s smiled grew as she walked towards the restaurant.

“I’m guessing I picked a good place?” Killian questioned, reaching out to pull her hand into his, holding it tight as they walked inside.

“Yes! Henry is going to be so jealous he missed this,” she exclaimed. However, she had to ask, “But why did you choose this? I thought you were planning a romantic evening? You know, a fancy restaurant, walks along the beach, candlelight.”

Killian laughed a deep chuckle. His head tilted back a bit as he tried to contain himself.

“Swan, romance comes in many forms. It’s not all candlelight and moonlit walks in cold water. Sometimes, it’s simply knowing the person you are with and doing something with them that they would enjoy. I know you, Swan - you don’t want walks along the beach or a stuffy dinner at some restaurant that is overpriced. You want fun, excitement, and the thrill of a game,” he said, pulling her towards him, his arms wrapping around her waist.

She had to admit, he was right. Emma didn’t enjoy the traditional romantic shit that most girls like. She found it all too clichéd. Romance didn’t equal love. It didn’t mean that the person knew you. Emma would have hated a fancy dinner, at a restaurant where she would get hardly enough food for an outrageous price. She loved chains and loved the fun that some of these restaurants had. She wanted something different, and Killian was giving it to her. He must have remembered how she hated the beach as a kid. Sand sucked. It got everywhere and Emma hated the way it made her skin feel. She hated that she would find sand in placesc for months after a trip to the beach. She preferred the pool over the ocean, too – in a pool, she could see everything, whereas in the ocean, she never knew what was swimming around her feet.

While she was in her mind, he placed a kiss on her lips. It was a quick kiss, similar to all the other ones he had placed on her as she was leaving for the day or they were laying down to go to bed, but this one held a small promise. A promise saying there was more to come, that there would be some traditional romance if she was only patient enough to let it happen.

“So, what do you say love, you ready to play some games?” He wiggled his eyebrows with his question.

“Bring it on, Jones,” she winked and pulled him into the restaurant.

*********

They played for hours, snacking and drinking every so often. Emma enjoyed Killian’s company, and the ease at which they talked and flirted. 

“So, other than the douche you dated in high school, who else struck your fancy, love?” he questioned as they took a break from the games, sitting down on the high chairs they had claimed a few hours earlier. 

“No one else really. Neal was my first, and only real, boyfriend,” she confessed, heat rising to her cheeks. She was embarrassed by the fact that she hadn’t experienced what most got to. 

“Really?” he asked, a disbelieving tone laced his words.

“Yeah. It wasn’t for lack of trying either,” she explained. “After Neal, I took some time to myself. I had spent a good portion of my teen years dating the same person, so I wanted to just have time to myself. Mary Margaret tried to get me to date during our later years at college, but no one really made my heart stop, ya know?”

Killian just nodded his head. There was something he wasn’t telling her. 

“I’m not a virgin though,” she blurted out, the redness showing in her cheeks. 

She was pretty sure it was one of the most embarrassing moments of her life; divulging her sexual history to a man she was pretty sure she would marry in such a brazen way, but she had to let him know. Maybe it was the look he gave her when she told him there hadn’t been anyone of importance in her life. All she knew was that she couldn’t go on another minute without him knowing that. 

He just raised his eyebrow in response. There was no noise coming from him. He just took a sip of his water and ate a buffalo wing. 

“I mean, I lost my virginity to Neal a few weeks before I found him cheating on me. In college, I had a few drunken one night stands, but none of them meant anything,” she explained, rambling on, hoping Killian would interject. 

“It’s hard to believe they didn’t want anything more,” he finally said. 

“They did, I didn’t,” she began. “August was the first guy I was with after Neal. Mary Margaret tried to get us to date; she was obsessed with August. He wanted to be a writer and she thought that was romantic. We hung out some; he didn’t want a traditional relationship, and I didn’t want any kind of one, so we went our separate ways. Jefferson was the other. That’s a story for another night, but after the craziness of that, I decided to just stop trying.”

After Neal, she didn’t want anything serious. She didn’t want to put herself through that all over again. The pain and betrayal she felt, combined with the suppressed feelings she still had about being adopted, made it hard for her to really trust anyone not to leave and abandon her. 

“I’m not either,” he said, looking up from his wings. “A virgin that is,” he added as Emma’s curious look crossed her face. 

“Oh?” she asked, a pang shooting through her chest. 

She shouldn’t have been upset. They both had separate lives before he moved back home. Of course it wouldn’t be weird for both of them to be sexually active. Yet, she was a bit sad that someone else knew Killian in a way she so desperately wanted to know him. She had to wonder if he felt the same when she confessed her status to him?

“Yeah,” he started, “her name was Sophie. We weren’t dating or anything. Well, at least we weren’t serious. Or, I wasn’t. She had had a crush on me for years. All of my friends were dating and losing their virginity, so I thought, hell, why not?”

Emma leaned forward, her elbows coming to rest on the high table they had chosen. Her hand reached forward and picked up a French fry, and popped it in her mouth. She mimicked Killian’s facial expression and raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to continue.

“I felt like shit about it afterwards; still do. The whole experience was just crap. Of course it was, we were young and had no fucking clue what we were doing, no pun intended. It was awkward and just plain bad. And afterwards I acted like nothing had happened, and ended everything with her,” his eyes held sorrow with the confession.

“Ouch,” Emma responded. 

“Aye, I was an ass about it. Thankfully, Sophie was a lady. She never spread rumors or anything. She did confront me at graduation though, asked why I had been such a jackass to her. I apologized, blamed it on being a teenage boy. She went on to marry a local boy, has three kids now,” he said as a way of wrapping up his story. There was something more he wasn’t telling her, but she wasn’t going to press it. 

“She wasn’t the last though, was she?” Emma asked, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.

She was pretty sure Killian had other conquests. Someone that looked the way he did probably had women throwing themselves at him left and right. Plus, the way he acted after Emma would mention something, told her there was someone important in his history that he hadn’t mentioned. Emma could also tell things with that person didn’t end well, and not because of him.

It hurt her heart to admit that to herself, but she knew Killian had been in love before. He had been able to experience something she had never really felt. Jealousy filtered through her veins. The woman who once held his fancy, his heart, whom had his love, turned Emma into a green-eyed monster. She knew it wasn’t right to think it though. They hadn’t been in contact for years, she couldn’t hold it against either of them. But she knew, if she had had that chance, no one would have gotten to know Killian in the way she so desperately wanted to know him. 

“No, she wasn’t,” he said, reaching up to scratch his ear.

Emma wanted to pull his hand away. To hold it close. To take the hesitation away. She wanted him to feel he could tell her anything. She was; or at least she was getting there. But, at least she knew he would never hold anything against her, that he would forgive her for anything she had done. At least, she hoped so.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, reaching across the table, ignoring the food placed between them. 

“Thanks, it’s just hard,” he began, reaching out to grasp her hand, “I’ve never talked to anyone about Milah before; well, anyone other than Liam.”

He chuckled when he mentioned his brother’s name.

“I get it,” she said, rubbing circles against his skin. 

“Milah was the first girl I thought I loved, she was the first person to get me, and really get me. Liam hated our relationship; and looking back on it now, I get why.”

Emma listened intently as he began to weave his tale of Milah.

She was surprised to hear about their age difference, her mouth popped open at the confession. It was hard to picture him with her. It didn’t matter that he described their relationship in great detail, his eyes shimmering as he reminisced on their time together. It didn’t matter that she could hear his feelings for the woman. Emma just couldn’t picture it. 

It was hard to picture a young Killian falling for someone old. Even though he described her as young, with deep brown hair and bright eyes; all Emma could see was an aging woman who was desperate to feel young again. She saw wrinkles and the passage of time. She saw someone who took advantage of young boy, one who was still processing his mother’s death, his father’s departure and the loss of a life he so desperately wanted to live. She saw a seductress, she saw red. 

She tried to listen as he continued to weave their story. She heard him discuss how they hid their relationship for years, trying to hide from the judgement that they were sure they would face. She heard him talk about the college years; how Milah wanted to party and the lack of support he received from her. 

She tried to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to rag on his previous relationship - it was over and done with, and she was his future. But it pained her to hear how horribly he was treated, how there was no real support. It angered her that she hadn’t been there to stop the whole rotten thing. 

“You’re awfully quiet over there, Swan.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts. 

“I’m just taking it all in,” she explained, trying to keep any hint of judgement from her voice. It wasn’t Killian’s fault he fell for Milah. You can’t help who you fall in love with. But Emma couldn’t believe that Killian had let that woman take advantage of him for so long. 

“Looking back on the relationship, I can see all these red flags, but in the moment, I was only focused on what she was giving me,” he added.

“Well, it’s all in the past now. All of it is; we learned from our past and now we can move forward,” she suggested. 

“Aye, that we can,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. 

There was something different in them now. It was if everything that had been holding him back from being with her was now non-existent. The way he looked at her was deeper somehow. Even though she hadn’t said much, just letting him tell his story; it was as if just the act of listening to him cured him of some ailment. 

“Let’s go home,” he suggested, but didn’t wait to hear her response. There was a hunger to his voice, an impatience. Maybe he was starting to feel what she had been feeling. 

His hand was already grasping hers, pulling her towards the door. 

*********

The drive back to their place, Emma smiled as she thought about her calling it their place; was silent. The tension between them was electric. His hand rested tightly on her thigh, sending shocks through her system every few seconds when he would loosen his grip, rubbing his fingers along her jeans. 

Emma was thankful Killian had stopped drinking earlier in the night. If he hadn’t, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to last a Lyft ride back to her house without her lips on his skin or feeling his hands run against her back. She would have made out with him in the back of that imaginary Lyft; probably scaring the driver and getting her a one star rating. 

Killian had settled up their tab right before she blurted out that she wasn’t a virgin. So, they were able to make it to the car without stopping. Killian’s hand still grasping hers, while he held a bag with prizes in the other. Another thing he had thought of. While Emma’s brain was drunk on the presence of Killian, and the vodka she had been sipping on, he had been planning the evening out. 

Whether he had been planning to pull her from the restaurant after the confession of Milah, or not, wasn’t something Emma wanted to focus on. Instead, she wanted to think about what was waiting for her when they got home. If the heat that was radiating off his hand was any indication, she would finally see if what she had been feeling all along was true; and she couldn’t wait. 

********

Killian’s POV

Telling Emma the broad story of him and Milah had been cathartic. It was like all the shit he had been holding inside, all the toxic thoughts from his past relationship, had been cleansed. He was a new man. All from simply telling his best friend about her. 

He didn’t tell her some of the more horrible details. Not that he was scared to tell her; he could just tell she didn’t need to hear it. He watched her face as he recounted the relationship with Milah. With each passing moment, with each new confession, he saw every emotion she was feeling. Most of the time, Emma was a statue, hiding her true feelings; but she couldn’t hide them from him, not any more. He had seen the passion and once that had been shown, he quickly began to see everything else. 

Emma couldn’t hide the disgust in her face when Killian mentioned their age difference. She tried to keep her face stoic; trying to hide her real feelings, but she failed. He had seen that look a million times when friends had found out about their age difference or when he and Milah would walk down the street hand in hand. Most of the time, the faces didn’t bother him; but seeing the look on Emma’s did. It was something that had always worried him, as evidenced in the letters he wrote to her. He was worried of the judgement from Emma; worried about what she would say. Yet, even though he saw the disgust and worry on her face, he knew it wasn’t directed at him.

When her eyes met his during his story, they told him that all she cared about was his well being. All she cared about was him. He knew that if they didn’t have any unanswered feelings between them, and they had been friends all along, that Emma would have been supportive of him and his relationship - once he had been a bit older and if Milah’s behaviors had changed. 

Once he finished and he heard Emma state that it was all in the past, he knew they were both ready to really try this relationship out. 

He had been waiting patiently. It took every ounce of his will to do it, but he made sure there was no rush to what they were about to do. He wanted them both to be ready for it because he knew deep down that once he had Emma Swan, once he felt her beneath him, once he had her, he could never let her go. He knew what his feelings meant. And after watching her listen to him, after seeing the emotions cross her face as he described the love he once had for Milah, he knew her feelings matched his.

There was nothing but their breathing as they drove back to the home he now considered his. Her breath spreading up with anticipation as they walked from the Jeep into the darkness. Outside, they had the stars and moon to light their way. He was able to steal glances, just to see how the moon reflected off her features as she watched the road. But now that they were inside the house; the darkness engulfed them. 

Killian could swear there was an audible crackle of static as they stood in the entrance way; both a bit unsure of what was going to happen. 

Ideas floated around his brain the whole way home; from not bothering with ceremony and taking her right in the hallway to making the entire ordeal last all night, only giving into their urges as the sun rose the next morning. 

Neither one of them initiated what happened; not really. Or, they both started it. Their bodies crashed against each other as they came together at the exact same moment. Everything had been leading to this - to this exact moment. All the shit that had happened in their lives were leading them to this. 

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to him as her hands fisted his shirt, helping the movement. He heard her pant quickly before his lips met hers. They kissed as if they had never kissed before, saying everything they hadn’t been brave enough to say aloud. It was strong and forceful, demanding. It was like an eruption that had been building up for thousands of years. 

The tension was finally cut and there was no going back. In a million years, Killian knew no one would ever compare to Emma. Not only did she make him feel alive again, she understood him, down to the smallest atom in his body. They were made for each other, and the moan that escaped her mouth as he kissed her told him as so. 

Without breaking the kiss that was still happening, his arms snaked down around her ass and lifted her off her feet. He felt her fingernails scrape against his scalp before she hooked her fingers around his neck. He walked them towards the bedroom, deciding he wanted her in their bed for the first time. They had the rest of their lives to christen the house. 

Their clothes still clung to their bodies as they made their way into the room. A soft light shone through the windows that framed the bed, casting a soft glow on everything it touched. He was stunned at first, standing in the center of the room, trying to make up his mind on what to do next. 

With Milah, there was never any chance to take pause. She dominated him in the bedroom, telling him exactly what she wanted, when and how. With Emma, things were different. He could already tell they were equals. Yet he also knew she would let him take control. So he had to decide--would he undress her here or on the bed?  _ Decisions, decisions _ , he thought to himself. 

He wanted to see all of her, so it was the bed he decided. He walked her over, lips still pressed together, tongues still in their dance. He gave her ass a squeeze, making her pull up and away from him with a delicious moan. Without ceremony, he tossed her on the bed, causing her hair to fan out around her. Her hands went to her shirt as she giggled, pulling it up over her head. He didn’t need to tell her what he wanted, and she didn’t need to speak. Their bodies already knew what to do. 

The shirt he was wearing stayed on, since it would have hindered his view of Emma. He would have missed her shimmying out of her pants, her tight body coming to rest on the bed. The sight before him had him sucking in a breath, a hiss escaping his teeth. She was breathtaking. Her pale skin was set off against the deep blue of the bra and thong she was wearing, the lace that surrounded the fabric looking delicate against her body. He was in heaven. 

She eyed him, raising her eyebrows, in a motion that told him her patience with his clothed body was waning. 

He quickly tore off his shirt and pants, standing before Emma in his boxer briefs, allowing her to fully take him in - his erection standing at attention, waiting to feel Emma around him. A smile crossed her face, and her eyes burned into him. 

He was on her in an instant, her legs opening to allow him access to her. She sat up on her elbows to meet him and his lips begged for more. He moaned loudly as his erection came into contact with the apex of her thighs, feeling the heat radiating off her skin. His hands roamed her body, mapping every inch of her. 

One of his hands came to rest over her bra, fondling her though the fabric. She moaned into his mouth, urging him on. A heel of her foot pushed into his back, making him press into her harder. She needed him desperately and he wanted nothing more than to give himself freely to her. 

His other hand snaked down her body, until he pulled him away from her for a moment, allowing his fingers to skirt over her panties. 

“Shit, Emma,” he said, when her felt just how wet she was for him. “You’re soaked.”

A small smirk crossed her face before a look of agony followed. 

“Please,” she begged.

The agony was of passion, and her need for him to take her. He had seen a sample of the look on her face before, when things almost got out of hand, but the desperation on her face now wasn’t something he could ignore. He wanted to please her, to make her scream in pleasure. 

His fingers played with the fabric of her panties, spreading the moisture around. 

“Are you sure, love?” he questioned. 

“Yes!” she screamed as his fingers danced over her nub through the fabric. 

The panties that were soaked with her juices were quickly removed, his large hand taking their place. He moved from on top of her to her side, allowing him to not only watch her as he teased her into a frenzy, but also to watch what he was doing. He wanted to watch his fingers move through her folds, watch as her hair curled in between his fingers. 

“Fuck, Killian,” she moaned as his fingers picked up their pace. His other hand exposed her breast from their cups, the slightly cool air hardening her nipples. He didn’t want to miss what was right in front of him, but he couldn’t help but lean down and take one of her peaked nipples in his mouth. As he suckled and bit, he slid a finger into her slick hot core. She bucked at the contact, but the moan that was screamed told him to keep going. 

His eyes flicked up to see Emma’s head thrown back in ecstasy, a slight blush to her face and her bottom lip squished between her teeth. 

Moving slowly, his finger moved in and out of her, sliding out of her to ghost her clit, then descending back inside. He could see her getting closer and closer to release. Her walls clenched each time he pulled out of her, begging his fingers to stay inside. He wanted to keep watching her, wanted to keep seeing the build up, but he also couldn’t wait to see her fall apart and to feel her do it all over again wrapped around his cock. 

Adding a thumb into the mix, he took her nipple in his mouth, biting the tiniest bit and rubbing a hard circle into her clit right as he hooked his finger inside of her, sending a shock straight to her system. It sent her over the edge. 

She yelled out a curse, contorting her whole body. He didn’t know where to look, as every part of her was intoxicating and flushed with pleasure thanks to him. Her toes curled, grasping at the sheets. Her hands knotted in her hair, her head flung to the side as her mouth was thrown open in ecstasy. Her chest heaved. She clenched down on his finger hard. 

He didn’t withdraw the digit. He did stop all motions, though, allowing her to come down from her high. After he came, he was always so sensitive, and was pretty sure Emma would be too. Not moving allowed her to calm down enough, just enough. It was like a roller coaster ride. At least that was how Liam explained it to him when he was younger, inexperienced and needing advice. 

He explained how roller coasters had a build up, then some action, like a loop or drop, but there was always a pause where the ride slowed and sometimes came to a stop, allowing you to get your bearings again, before sending you through to an even bigger thrill. 

It was something Milah always commented on. She said he was her only lover who ever allowed her a true break before getting to the good part. 

Shaking off the thought of Milah, he watched Emma come down from her high. Her breathing slowed, but the flush to her skin stayed. She was still slick as Killian started to play with her again, silently asking if they could continue. 

“That was amazing!” Emma’s exclamation was soft, but held so much emotion. It had Killian wondering if Emma’s past lovers ever really made her come or it she just faked it. 

“That wasn’t even the best of tonight, love,” he almost giggled, trying to sound sexy, but failing just a bit in his joy of hearing her so happy about what they just did. 

“I can’t wait,” she said, reaching her arms up, to drag him back down on top of her, her lips pressing against his.

For the next few minutes, he built her back up. His touches were light and teasing. He didn’t stay long in any place, his hands giving her entire body the once over. He grinded against her as he felt her tight ass.

He couldn’t hold out any longer, especially with her wiggling beneath him, her body begging him to bring her to the edge again. She was soaked again, her juices glistening against her thighs. 

Seeing it as he positioned himself above her left him wanting to taste her—needing to. 

He kissed his way down her body, goosebumps rising along her skin with each peck. He loved the feeling of them - mixed with the heat of her skin, it was exhilarating knowing he caused it. 

As he reached her pelvic bone, his kisses got longer, his tongue darting out to lick her skin, nibbling a bit too at the tight skin over her hip bones. 

He breathed her in before getting to what he really wanted. Once his tongue hit her clit and he felt her almost explode, he was hooked. Between her legs was now officially his favorite place to be; she tasted sweet and smelled delicious. Her moans kept him going, not wanting to stop licking and sucking. He added in a digit or two for a short time to bring her right to the edge, before pulling them away. 

The teasing was his favorite part—well, second favorite after seeing her come undone. He loved the little squeals of begging when he pulled away, her pleas. He loved the way her body responded to his and he didn’t want it to end. He wanted her to drown in the pleasure he could give her. He wanted her to need it the same way she needed air to breathe. 

“Please Killian, please let me come,” She was hoarse as she begged, the whimpers surrounding the please were not only sexy but cute at the same time. She was completely at his mercy, and he knew he had her right where he wanted. 

He gave into her pleading and didn’t pull back the next time his fingers entered her and his tongue played against her clit. He even nipped at the nub a little, just as his two fingers curled inside of her, sending her over the edge for a second time. Her screams were even louder, with more pleasure mixed in. A huge smile crossed his face as he licked her down from her high, stopping as soon as her body stopped its release. 

Before he had a chance to move atop of her; she was on him, using the surprise to move him against the mattress, tugging him up and flipping him, pinning him beneath her. 

“I need you, Killian, been needing you,” she mewed. 

“Take what you need then, Emma; take it all,” he said, almost as a beg. Now that she was on top of him, her thighs gripping his, her soaking wet core pinned against his strained erection, he needed her the way she needed him. 

While he enjoyed licking her, tasting her, he wanted that tight quim around him. 

They hadn’t talked about protection, so he was surprised when she leaned over and reached for her nightstand. She pulled out a long trail of condoms. 

The smile that crossed his face was bright. He loved that she was prepared, since it was the one thing he really didn’t think about. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about it; but he felt it was jinxing it. 

“I don’t want to ruin the mood, but I’m clean. I’m also on birth control, have been for decades. So…” she trailed off, a bit shy. His smile grew. She was cute. They had just done some pretty dirty things and here she was, shy about protection. 

“Emma, I will have you whichever way you feel comfortable. I’m clean as well, I actually have my last test in my drawer. The Navy requires a test each year,” he explained. 

She tossed the condoms to the side.

“I don’t think we need these,” she said sheepishly.

“If that is OK with you. It may not seem that way, but you are in charge, love,” he reached up and cupped her cheeks, pulling her down to kiss him. 

“Take me, Killian; make me yours,” she said, deepening the kiss. 

Killian had never been with someone without a condom, and he was pretty sure Emma hadn’t either. He really was going to make her his. 

It was awkward, but he was able to get his boxers off without breaking the kiss from Emma. Finally there was no barriers between them. They could finally be together in every way. 

“You sure, love?” he asked one last time, wanting to be one hundred percent sure.

“Yes, Killian,” she said impatiently.

She hovered above him, taking him in her hand, giving him a squeeze. He finally understood what he had been doing to her the whole time. The teasing squeezes on his cock were driving him insane. He fit perfectly in her palm, and even though he knew what was coming, he didn’t want her to let go. 

He watched as the glorious form that was Emma situated herself above him, his cock lining up directly with her opening. She slowly sank down onto him. 

Her head was thrown back as she got used to his invasion. He closed his eyes, allowing the pleasure of her walls against him to wash over him. She felt perfect, amazing, heavenly. She was tight, fitting him like a glove. She took him in deep, pausing when she hit the base of his cock. 

“Emma, you feel so good,” he said, sitting them up so he could take her in a bit deeper. The moan that escaped her told him she liked the way he felt. 

She didn’t move at first, adjusting to him. 

“You’re so deep,” she whispered, her head leaning against his neck, as his lips suckled at her neck. 

“Move for me Emma,” he said between nips. 

He laid back down, his hands coming to rest on her perfect hips, ready if she needed help moving. The way her silhouette shone against the night backdrop accented each and every curve she had. Her breasts were heavy and hung beautifully against her. Her hips jutted out, giving her ass an even fuller look. Her arms were toned and firm as she reached up to hold onto her hair, that looked silver in the moonlight. 

Slowly she raised above him, using her perfect legs to guide her. The movement of her thighs against his as she lowered herself back onto him was purely amazing. As she got used to his length inside of her, she moved faster, bringing a hand down to rest against his chest, using it as leverage. Her nails dug into him, as they interlaced with his chest hair. 

Her rhythm was picking up, her breasts bouncing with her movements. He was in awe of her. One hand left her hips and came up to grasp one of them, pinching her nipple and causing her to moan his name loudly again. 

“Fuck, Killian, it feels so good,” she cried out. 

“Ride me, Emma, keeping going,” he groaned. 

His hand on her hip gave her a squeeze, making her speed up. 

Emma took the lead, pulling Killian’s hand from her hip, placing it on her clit.

“Play with me Killian, make me come again,” she purred. 

“As you wish,” he growled, rubbing his thumb against her clit. 

He wanted to kiss her, to bruise those perfect lips even more, but he couldn’t pass up another opportunity to see her fall apart, especially since the view was so different and fascinating. 

“Fuck!” she stuttered as her walls clenched around him for the third time. He would never get tired of the feeling. 

She fell apart around him, her rhythm being thrown off by her orgasm. He tried to keep up the pace, pounding into her as she rode through the high, but he was going to come undone inside of her; especially with small squeezes she was giving. 

He came quickly, just as Emma was coming down from her high.

“Emma,” he cried out, as he jerked up, his hand leaving her clit alone, his hands going back to her hip so he wouldn’t fall away into a void that he was sure now surrounded him. 

He collapsed back into the bed, pulling Emma onto him. Curling them onto their sides, he nuzzled into her, their naked bodies still entwined. There were beads of sweat around her neckline that he licked off of her, stroking her stomach. 

She purred against him, sinking into him. 

As they laid there, basking in the pleasure of their activities, Killian knew he would never want anything as much as staying in this moment. He was content and happy and from the sounds Emma was making, she didn’t want anything different either. 

They drifted off to sleep like that, curled against each other, in pure bliss. 


	12. Chapter 12

Unlike the morning before, Emma wanted to wake up today. Waking up meant more time in Killian’s arms, more time being ravished and adored. Henry was set to come home in a couple of hours, and they would have to watch themselves, so time was of the essence.

She stretched up, the ache in some of the muscles she hadn’t used in a couple of years prevalent. It was a good ache though, one that reminded her of the wicked games they had played the previous night. Her fingers wiggled before they came down to run through her blonde locks. Tangles gripped them as she reached the base of her neck. 

As she threaded her fingers through again, working out the knots slowly, Emma smiled at the memory of Killian and her, rolling around in the sheets after a quick nap. 

Never before had she had a night like that. Everyone before Killian left after they slept together. No one ever stayed around to pick up where they left off. They never had the opportunity - she kicked them out as soon as she could. So, even if they wanted to, she didn’t give them the chance.

After the multitude of orgasms he gave her first, she was surprised he was willing to give her more. By her estimates, they arrived back at the house around 11 and fell asleep around midnight. He woke her up around 3, and again at 6, to show her just how much more he wanted to give her. 

The first time he woke her up, he did it by giving her sweet kisses, his hands palming her breasts and his wicked words in her ears. The second time, she was awoken by his tongue lapping at her, moaning how it drove him crazy that she was already ready for him even in her sleep. 

So, when she had woken up around 9, she was ready for more. 

A thought came to her mind as she rolled in bed to look at the man who was starting to be the only thing she thought about. He looked calm, his breathing regular. She loved his chest hair, how it stuck up in different directions thanks to her running her fingers through it as she rode him to her own release a few hours earlier. 

It was quickly becoming her new favorite thing, being on top of him, lowering herself onto his hardness, feeling herself clench around him. 

Things were different with him; everything was different with him. Emma had enjoyed sex in the past, but never as much as she did last night. No one had ever made her feel both in control and at a loss all at the same time. He knew just the line to walk with her--giving her enough demands, but requesting her own at the same time. They were together through the whole thing, neither giving or taking more than the other. The way he looked at her had her shaking, especially as she was close to coming. He looked at her like he was seeing for the first time, and it drove her insane with lust. And a little bit of love. 

So, as she watched him sleep, remembering every little detail from the night before, she knew she owned him a wake up call as well. 

Carefully, trying not the shift the mattress too much, she moved over him. 

He had went down on her out each time he woke her last night, but he didn’t let her reciprocate. She begged him a bit, saying she wanted to suck him dry, but he never let her. Instead, he would kiss her senseless, until she was begging for him in a different way. 

Killian was lying on his back, one arm rested above his head, while the other settled across his chest. He also slept naked, which Emma was thankful for. She didn’t need to fumble around with moving him and taking his clothes off - it would ruin the surprise. 

She reached down and grasped his erection in her hand. She wasn’t too surprised that he was already hard. He confessed the night before that it had been normal the past week for him to wake up hard and need a cold shower in order to function around her. She blushed when he said it.

She was also annoyed it had taken them this long to fall into bed together, especially after the explosion that happened when they finally met, but her heart was thankful. They had both dealt with some heartbreak, him more than her, and she didn’t want them to break because of their past. 

Her hand began moving up and down, her eyes staring at him, watching for any signs that he was waking up. She heard a slight hum as his head turned a bit. He was coming out of sleep quicker than she expected. 

Before he could fully wake up she bent down and took him in her mouth. She moved up and down slowly, her hand training behind her mouth. 

When she looked up, after a minute or two, she was met with dark blue eyes. The intensity of the stare made her waver a bit; his eyes tore into her soul, searching for Emma’s feelings, searching to see if she felt the same as he did. Not only did they say that, but they told her that she wouldn’t be getting out of bed for a very long time, as they consumed her and wanted her. 

His hand that rested on his chest came up and gripped her hair, a slight pain shocking her body. She enjoyed him rough, and the way his hand moved her head the way he wanted, was driving her wild. She was determined to make him feel the way she felt whenever he touched her. She wanted him to not remember his own name when she was through with him. 

She took him deeper, pushing him as far back in her throat as she could. She felt the normal reflex kick in, but relaxed a bit, to take him farther than anyone before. She hummed as she started to move back up, her teeth raking across his sensitive skin, causing him to groan in need.

Her eyes flicked back up to him, a small grin crossing her face as she moved back down in a slow fashion. 

“Fuck, Emma,” he growled. 

She continued to suck, moving faster now that he was awake, and his moans egged her on. While she wanted to be with him again, she also wanted to control his release the way he did with her. The hand that wrapped around strands of hair told her to keep going as well. 

Her pace quickened; Emma wanted to draw it out, but she also wanted to see him fall apart while all her attention was focused on him. He had claimed that watching her come was the best thing he had ever witnessed, and since he was always coming when she did, she never watched his climax. But now, she wanted to see it. 

He was close. He had stopped watching her, his head bobbing up and and down, his face pushed together, as if he was in pain; but Emma knew it wasn’t a true pain, but the pain of pleasure, one that you only got from trying to hold out, instead of just letting the feelings wash over. 

“I’m going to come, Emma,” he warned. 

She continued her rhythm, lowering her mouth down on him quickly, but pulling up slowly. She could feel him pulsing in her mouth, tasting some saltiness as he came closer and closer to his release. 

She sucked a bit harder, moaning around him, causing him to moan her name and fling his head back. 

“Emma!” he cried as he came, his hands falling to his side, one hand grasping at the comforter. 

She didn’t move, letting him empty himself in her mouth. Her eyes focused on him - noticing the flush of his skin. His eyes were pushed closed, and his mouth wide open, moans escaping it. She could see his heart beat in his chest and he tried to steady himself. Once he stilled in her mouth, she swallowed, looking up at him with a satisfied grin. 

She tried to crawl off of him, but his arms came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her down on top of him. The sparkle in his eyes held everything she needed to know - that he thoroughly enjoyed himself, that he was in awe of what she was capable of doing, and that he was going to pay her back for it. She giggled as she settled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. She could hear the beating of his quickened heart in his chest and it soothed her, almost enough for her to fall back asleep. 

“That was the best way to wake up,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple and rubbing his hands up and down her back. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Her reply held a small amount of sarcasm, daring him to say anything different. 

“I very much did,” he laughed, his movement bouncing Emma in her nook. 

His hands started to roam over her body, sending goosebumps along her skin. His leg came between them, pushing her legs open. Without any effort, his hands moved her over so that she was now resting on her back with him nestled in her nook. His tongue darted out, licking her skin just beneath her ear.

“Mmmm, you taste heavenly, love,” he said in a sultry voice, making Emma wiggle underneath his touch. His hands still moved across her body, feeling every inch except the one area where she desperately needed him. 

She knew she was wet, she woke up needing him, never getting enough, and the feeling of his cock in her hands and mouth made her even more ready for him. Hell, she was tempted to play with herself while going down on him, but she was glad all of her attention was focused on him. 

Now, though, she didn’t have to focus on anything; she could just let the pleasure come. 

One of his hands flirted with her waiting nub, causing her to whimper with each pass. She knew he was teasing her, and while it was driving her crazy, she didn’t want him to stop. She was enjoying the game he was playing. The pleasure was building up inside of her, and she knew when he finally made her come, she would feel a rush of pleasure unlike anything else she had ever felt. The way he knew and played her body made her love him even more. 

She shook the last thought from her mind, she didn’t need to be thinking about her feelings towards him; especially not feelings of love. She didn’t trust those feelings, she couldn’t. Not until she knew exactly what he was feeling. She couldn’t let her feelings mess with what they had going for them. Love changes everything, and she didn’t want things to change. 

Love was something that scared her, truthfully. It wasn’t because she hadn’t seen real love before; because she had some good models in her parents and Mary Margaret and David. It was because she saw what love could sometimes make you do - like pack your kids and life up to chase after a man who really didn’t love you. Emma loved Killian’s mother, but she saw just how bad love can sometimes treat people. And she didn’t want to end up like her, chasing Killian around the globe, begging him to love her the way she loved him. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t do that to her, but the anxiety was still there - it took him all this time to come back to her, so what was to say he wouldn’t leave again? 

Feelings had no place in what they were doing. She couldn’t let herself get hurt, couldn’t let Henry get hurt. So, in her mind, if she kept her true, deep feelings hidden, she wouldn’t get hurt and Henry wouldn’t get hurt either. They could all live together, doing what they have been doing, for years, with no one getting hurt. 

There was a small voice in the back of her mind that said it wouldn’t work like that, though, that she knew Killian felt the same way about her; but there was a larger voice, one that yelled rather than whispered, that told her to protect her heart. 

His fingers finally stayed on her clit, pulling her from her thoughts, thankfully. Emma couldn’t let herself get deeper inside her own insecurities. His fingers kept her in the present, where she wanted to be. 

As if he sensed her thoughts had taken her away from him, he turned her head using his free hand, and kissed her deeply, so perfectly, that she forgot what she was even worried about in the first place.

His tongue met hers in a feverish manner, demanding hers to keep up the pace. His teeth gripped her lower lip in-between the passionate kisses, causing her to moan and her legs to spread wider, allowing him better access to her aching core. 

“Tell me how you want it, Emma,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, allowing each of them to catch their breath. 

“Mmmmm,” she moaned, unsure of how to respond. She just wanted him, wanted to come, and wanted him to be the person who made her cry out in pleasure. But she also knew it got him off when she told him what to do. 

The night before, there was equal give and take between them, time where Emma told him what to do or took the reins, and others where a dominant side of Killian came out.

She loved both sides of him, but in that moment, she didn’t want to tell him what to do, she just wanted him to do it.

He looked at her as his fingers played between her thighs. She looked at him, silently pleading and telling him exactly what she was thinking. 

“I think you want me to keep playing with you like this, my fingers teasing you, to the point you can’t comprehend what is going on. I think you want my mouth on your perky nipples, sucking them and biting. I think you want me to make you come just like this, so you can scream my name before I capture your lips. I think you want my lips on your neck, whispering dirty thoughts in your ear,” he said with a husky tone, darkness filling his eyes again.

All she could do was nod, telling him that was exactly what she wanted. 

He did just that; his fingers teasing her, coming close to her heated core, but never entering. His fingers playing her clit like a guitar, sending shocks up her spine with each passing motion. His mouth took turns between giving attention to her nipples and her neck. He didn’t stay in the same place for too long, moving every few seconds. He blew on her neck and nipples before leaving them. He didn’t leave either alone though--his hand that wasn’t on her clit rubbed her nipple and cupped her breast while his mouth was at her neck, moving to pull her hair when he went back to her chest. 

The minutes passed quickly, but felt like ages at the same time. Emma found herself panting, needing more air to survive as his assault on her senses continued. He knew she was closing in on the edge of her climax. The way he attacked her neck told her he wanted her to come. 

He put two fingers into her, causing her to cry out, his name on her lips. He captured her mouth and kissed her senseless as his fingers lazily moved in and out of her, her orgasm lasting longer than usual thanks to his fingers drawing it out. She closed her eyes, soaking in the pleasure that racked through her system. It was like she was weightless, but weighed a thousand tons at the same time. Her soul was floating away from her body. When he pulled them out of her, he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, surprising Emma at how turned on she was by the act. She was ready for another go simply thanks to that act. 

Looking at him, she knew he was ready to go as well. 

She pulled him back against her, his lips crashing against hers. She reached beneath them, hand cupping his dick, moving it to her entrance. With each of them on their sides, faces close to touching, he entered her, her head falling back as he filled her perfectly. She loved the way he moved in her, the way she felt full when he was all the way inside of her. She never felt more perfect. 

The night before was filled with feverish activities, both of them going hard and fast, not really wanting to savor the moment once it came; but this morning was a different monster. Emma could feel the difference in the air. Now that they knew each other, and that their first time was out of the way, they could take their time. Nights always have a different feel to them; they are sexier, more seductive. Morning brought a different feeling to their bedroom, one that was more lazy and relaxed. They could take their time, learn the small details of what made the other tick. 

He moved in and out of her slowly, his forehead pressed against hers, his nose touching hers, he was breathing her in. His eyes held hers, she was unable to look away. It was becoming their things, their eyes finding each other and keeping them captivated. 

Her hands wrapped around his back, pulling him deeper into her. Her chest was pressed against his, the hairs on his tickling her perky nipples, causing her pleasure to escalate. She didn’t need his hands anymore. Having him so close to her, and the intimacy of what they were doing, was all she needed. Her leg hitched over his, her toes curled into the bed, trying to give her traction. The way they were fucking wasn’t like it had been the night before - this one held more emotion. 

Emma was back in her head, thinking about what she would call what they were doing. They weren’t fucking. There was too much emotion moving between them at that moment to be a simple morning fuck. She didn’t want to fully admit it, but she knew exactly what they were doing. 

They were making love. 

Her eyes closed, not wanting him to know what she was thinking. She didn’t even want to think what she was thinking. 

Instead, she focused on the movement that was happening, and begged Killian to fuck her.

“Fuck me, Killian, hard. Please,” she moaned, hoping to egg him on.

“As you wish,” he responded, picking up his pace.

Thankfully, it did the trick, and with each thrust into her, she was closer to the release she was begging for. His hands came up to cup her face as he rotated his hips, making the thrusts deeper and more powerful. 

He kissed her with a deep intimacy when he brought his lips to hers. It was a kiss to match what they were doing. It wasn’t quick or seductive, but thoughtful and filled with love. 

Emma would probably have found this all very cheesy and cliche, but it all felt right. The only thing that was missing was some 90’s R&B to set the mood, even though it wasn’t needed. 

Things were perfect just how they were. His lips met hers perfectly. His hands held hers perfectly, one of his interlinked near their hips, while the other found her hair. She made a mental note to wear her hair down more often, as it seemed to be one of the things he obsessed with most. 

Killian thrusted quick, sending Emma over the edge, her orgasm racing through her blood. He didn’t come too far behind her. Neither of them yelled or cursed, but they did deepen their kiss, breathing each other in as if their life depended on it. 

They both stopped moving, only the rise and fall of their chests could be seen. Emma was pretty sure her heart was going to give out. They had barely moved, but Emma felt like she had run a marathon in the past thirty minutes. She was sweaty and needed a large glass of water, and maybe a nice long bath to ease her sore muscles. 

She sighed at the thought. The bath sounded wonderful, but she was pretty sure that her time had run out and Henry would be home soon. 

She gave Killian and quick kiss on the lips before she slipped off him and moved towards the end of the bed. She was stopped though, before she could even stretch and place a foot on the floor. 

“Where do you think you’re going love?” He said directly in her ear, the heat of his breath causing goosebumps to appear on her skin again. 

“We need to get ready, Henry will be home any time,” she said, but made no motion to get out of the bed. 

“Just five more minutes,” he begged her like a teenage who just wanted five more minutes with a video game. 

“Ok,” she sighed, leaning farther back, just enough for him to pull her back to the bed, and to his kisses. 

She knew, just like with Henry and all the students in her classroom, five more minutes would turn into a few more hours--but she couldn’t say no.

**********

Emma finally broke away from Killian and the bed a few hours later. Thankfully, Henry had texted saying he would be staying with Avery for lunch - saying something about finishing their campaign. She didn’t want Henry walking into what they had been doing. 

Killian’s craving for her was insatiable; even after another round in bed followed by extensive cuddling, which included Killian whispering sweet stories of his travels to her. He even ran her a bath, sitting down inside of the tub, pulling her to sit between his legs. He put an ample amount soap in his hands, lathered it up and massaged it into Emma’s aching muscles. She almost fell asleep against his chest, his hands kneading away all the soreness and worry. 

She let the sun shine into her room, creating a lovely bubble that she didn’t want to leave; but she knew the longer they spent in bed, the harder it will be to get out when the time finally came.

She didn’t bother putting any clothes on either, before she padded down the hallway to the kitchen, needing sustenance. She knew she had some fresh fruit and some handy snacks that would do the job. Plus, if they continued on the path they had been for the past 12 hours, she knew she would need something quick, that would still give her energy. 

The food and snacks were abandoned though before Emma was even able to put them on a plate to bring into the bedroom. Killian’s need for her outweighed his need for food. He came up behind her, still naked as well, and kissed her neck as his erection rubbed against her back. He took her there in the kitchen, on top of the table that they used every night for dinner. 

The rest of their evening went the same, with Killian unable to keep his hands to himself, and Emma not stopping him. She didn’t want to, not really. 

He did behave, though, once Henry got home. 

She couldn’t put off his return, so she forced Killian to put clothes on for the first time that day and help her clean the mess they had made in the kitchen. And just like all the other nights they had had, he offered to make dinner for them. Although, his suggestion to eat out was almost taken, thanks to the looks Emma kept making when looking at the table.

They were both able to keep it together when Henry arrived home. The rest of the night was relaxed, with them making eyes at each other every chance they got. Emma knew better this time than to think that her son didn’t catch them, but she didn’t mind. Maybe if Henry saw a good relationship in his own home, it would influence him to be a better man 

It wasn’t the first time Emma had thought about that. Yes, she knew it would be easier to adopt Henry with a husband; but she also knew he needed a male role model around, that wasn’t David or her father. Henry needed to see how a real family operates on a day to day basis. Emma had seen a lot of kids who grew up not knowing how to treat women thanks to not having a positive male role model at home. And while she knew Henry would never treat a woman poorly, she wanted to show him a loving relationship. 

And Killian was such a good role model.

He was kind. He did things for Emma without a second thought. He didn’t conform to traditional male roles - preferring to cook and clean. Emma especially liked that part. But he was loving and tender. He didn’t hide his emotions or feelings for her. 

Emma didn’t grow up seeing that. She knew her parents loved each other; but she never saw them kissing or being intimate. 

Maybe if she had, her previous relationships would have been better. 

After their wonderful meal, where Killian kept Henry’s attention by asking him question after question about what he had done at Avery’s, Henry asked if they could do Family Game Night.

“You want us to have a Family Game Night?” Killian asked, clearly surprised at how Henry phrased the suggestion.

“Yeah,” he said before he continued. “Mary Margaret and David host one once a month; so why shouldn’t we?”

Before Emma could interject - reminding Henry that the Nolan’s Game Night was adults only, and normally involved 10 bottles of wine minimum, all while playing Cards Against Humanity, but more importantly kid-free - Henry continued.

“I know theirs is different, but we could do our own - play a board game and talk about what we are all doing next week,” he finished, looking more towards Killian than Emma.

It made her think about why Henry was asking them that way. He had done it when asking about the field trip. It was like Henry was already used to Killian being around all the time, like he was worried what would happen if Killian moved out. Which Emma was pretty sure Henry still thought was a possibility. She wished she could tell him he had nothing to worry about; that just like him, she was getting used to Killian’s presence and would love to see him stick around for the long haul. But her hopes were already up, and she didn’t want her son feeling the same. It was better if he was grounded in reality, prepared for the worst - especially since Emma knew she wasn’t. 

“That sounds wonderful, lad,” Killian said, a bright smile crossing his face. 

“Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “Let’s start now! I got Risk, Apples to Apples, Candy Land, Monopoly…”

“How about we save game night for tomorrow? Make it one big thing?” Emma suggested, cutting Henry off before he decided they should just play everything. 

While game night sounded fun, and while she would love to show Killian just how good she was at games after her embarrassing showing at the restaurant the night before, she was also worn out, the day’s activities finally getting to her. 

“Really?” Henry asked, an excitement filling his voice. 

Emma smiled at him, but there was a little voice in the back of her mind saying she should have done this sooner. She was always trying to give Henry the perfect home life. She wanted to wash away all of the bad memories he carried around with him. She silently berated herself for not thinking of Game Night in the past. But, something also told her it felt right that Henry brought it up and that Killian was involved. 

“Yes,” she began, “we can make popcorn and get junk food. We can even do a matinee movie before we get into the game. What do you say, kid?”

“I say, hell yes!” With that, he jumped out of his chair and punched the air.

“Language!” Emma exclaimed, but one that held a soft tone, and a shake of the head. She had to be the annoying mother every once in a while. 

Henry giggled as he sat down.

“Sorry,” but Emma knew he wasn’t really.

“So, we will go to the midday movie, hit up the grocery store for some junk food, then head back here to see who is the best?” Killian asked.

“I challenge you to the Game of Life, Killian!” Henry replied, a huge smile across his face. 

“You are so on!” Killian said, reaching out to shake hands with Henry.

All while Emma watched with a smile on her face, knowing there was no way in hell she would be letting Killian go. Ever.

*********

The next few days went along splendidly. Game night was a huge success. Emma thought she had stuffed herself with theater food as they watched the newest Marvel movie. But, as they all walked down the aisles of the grocery store, with Killian’s hand grasping hers, his other hand resting on Henry’s shoulder, Emma wanted more; the sweetness of the moment manifesting on her tastebuds. When they got home, and dumped all three bags of junk on the table, Emma once again doubted her stomach’s ability to hold in all that sugar. But, in the middle of LIFE as Killian’s character, who had four kids and a minivan, moved to retirement, Emma opened up another bag of gummy worms. 

She regretted it a few hours later. But there Killian was, offering a cold compress, cold water, and soothing rubs as she fought off sick. It really was like she was a teenage again. The whole thing reminded Emma of the weekend she and Ruby snuck vodka from Granny’s into their room during a sleepover. Emma was pretty sure the reason she threw up that night wasn’t because she couldn’t handle vodka, but because she had 4 bags of candy a few hours earlier. She couldn’t help it, though--gummy bears were her weakness.

Even after seeing her in that state, she was surprised that Killian’s lust for her never faltered. 

She yelled at him to leave her as she laid over the toilet, telling him to go away, not wanting him to see her like that. Even though she protested, Killian still barged into the bathroom, held her close and whispered how gorgeous she was even in the state she was in. 

Monday morning arrived with them waking up in the bathroom, Emma’s head resting on Killian’s lap. She was sure that he would have neck pain the rest of the day, but she was also positive that he wouldn’t mind. 

For the rest of the week, they spent it like any normal family would, similar to the previous week’s activities. However, the new week brought in more comfort and routine. 

Every morning, Emma smiled as she got ready for work, knowing that there would be a breakfast and coffee waiting for her, and probably a note from Killian. She went through each day in a bliss, knowing what was going to be waiting for her when she got home. Killian had started to pick up Henry from school, too. She had seen it the first day from her window, that looked out on the parent pick up loop. Killian was waiting in his Jeep, ball cap on and looking relaxed. He hadn’t put the roof or doors back on. Emma already knew there were probably a few PTA moms who were staring at him. 

They were like vultures, and Emma was jealous. She was pretty sure her cheeks were red as she watched some of the moms get out of their SUVs, which they weren't supposed to do, trying to show off their bodies, perfected by yoga, as they waited for their children to come out of the school. 

Killian, though, didn’t even notice. While Emma couldn’t see his eyes, as they were shaded by his sunglasses, his face never moved from the front of the school building. She knew, deep down, that he would never look at another woman the way he looked at her. 

What warmed her heart the most though, was the way he stood up in the Jeep when he noticed Henry walking from the building. She couldn’t hear their exchange, but she witnessed Killian hollering to her son, a grin plastered to his face, and Henry running, almost skipping with excitement, towards the Jeep. What she saw when Henry made it into the Jeep though, had her holding her breath. Henry reached over and gave Killian a side hug. 

Her son, who wasn’t the most trusting of adults, hugged a man he had known less than two weeks. She wanted to take the credit for the act; if it wasn’t for her bringing him into their house, none of it would have happened. But she knew she had nothing to do with it. It was all them: Killian’s openness and lovability, and Henry’s personality and maturity brought them together. 

While the scene was unfolding, Emma found herself thinking of the distant future, something she rarely did. Unless it involved Henry being part of her family permanently, she didn’t really think about the future. She knew it was in part because of what happened when she was little, but she also knew it was because nothing ever happened the way she planned it. But watching Henry and Killian as they pulled off, heading back towards her house, she couldn’t help it. 

She saw Killian driving Henry off to college, holding hands with Emma as she sobbed at seeing her son move out. She saw Killian at Henry’s graduation, cheering louder than anyone else. She saw Killian at Henry’s wedding, standing up as his best man, patting her son on the shoulder as he said his vows to a woman who loved Henry. She saw them sitting in her sunroom, hands linked, listening to their grandchildren yell and scream as they played in the yard. 

“Hey…” she heard a voice call from the door to her classroom. 

“Hey,” she turned around to face Mary Margaret, wiping a tear from her eye that she hadn’t realized was there.

“What’s wrong?” her friend asked, moving quickly to wrap Emma in her arms. 

“Nothing, actually,” Emma said, a smile crossing her face. 

Nothing was wrong. She was happy. For once, in her life, she felt like everything was going her way. She finally felt like everything was falling into place. 

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret soothed. 

“Really. I mean, I just watched Henry be so excited at Killian picking him up, and the last week has just felt… I don’t know…” she finished, unsure of how to describe the week she had. Every word that came to mind just didn’t do her feelings justice. 

“I know what you mean,” her friend said, pulling Emma away from the window to sit down at a table. 

“It’s like when I first met David. Nothing before him felt real. Nothing was right. Sure, I had a good life, a good family, great friends,” she added, nudging Emma in her shoulder, “but none of it really mattered until David came into the picture. He says it was like when we upgraded our TV. Sure, there was nothing wrong with that 50 inch TV we got at the wedding, at least I didn’t think there was, but David was right that everything would look better by upgrading.”

Emma smiled, remembering the fight the two had over that damn TV.

“Killian is upgrading your life,” Mary Margaret smiled. 

That thought stayed with Emma through the week. She thought about it as they ate dinner that night, with Henry talking animatedly about something that happened in PE class. She thought about it again as she laid in bed with Killian, snuggled deep under the covers, calm in her laziness. 

Emma was sure other couples didn’t follow the schedule they did. She thought back to when Mary Margaret first met David. They were like rabbits. They were so bad Emma walked in on them not once, not twice, but three times over the course of a month period. They couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. It was different with Killian. 

Sure, she loved the feel of his body on hers, and she was positive if given the chance, he would take Emma without second thought; but he also wanted to show her that his feelings weren’t just physical. Maybe it was also because they were older; they didn’t need to have sex every night to know what they had was real and meant something. 

They just enjoyed the time they had together, so instead of doing anything, they laid in each other’s arms talking about their day and discussing random items of the past, learning about each other all over again. 

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday was the same. Breakfast waiting, Killian picking Henry up with Emma peeking from the window of her classroom, Emma rushing through the door when she got home, unwilling to spend anymore time separated from her boys, a simple family dinner and then bed, cuddled up against Killian.

Some of the nights did involve some scandalous activities, where Emma had to bury her head into the pillow to keep quiet; but she didn’t mind that not all of them did. 

Henry didn’t go away the following weekend. Instead, the three of them spent the weekend together. Emma had never been the outdoorsy type of girl, but she didn’t mind a good hike; and the weather was beautiful, so she couldn’t say no when Killian asked if they wanted to wake up early and hike. 

After eight long hours of hiking, they ate dinner at a cute little diner they passed on the way to the park. Killian ended their night by massaging Emma’s sore calves, leading to Killian’s face between Emma’s legs and her nails digging into his back. She then joined him in the shower where she got on her knees and gave him just as much attention as he showed her. 

After Monday’s conversation with Mary Margaret, Emma had been thinking more about her relationship with Killian. She really didn’t want to think too much about it, knowing that her thoughts would get her nowhere, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe it was time to really start thinking about what life with Killian would be like. Especially since, in two weeks time, they would have to discuss what Emma had suggested. 

She cursed herself each time she thought about it. She regretted it on one hand; hated herself for even thinking about using him to get something else. She hated that she didn’t just ask him out right to help her. She hated that she was still keeping the secret from him. But on the other, she was kinda glad she had asked him. If she hadn’t, they would have never gotten together, never spent wonderful nights in each other’s arms. They probably would have still gotten together, knowing the tension between them, but it probably would have been long, drawn out, and Emma probably would have let her fears get in the way. 

Either way, they had to really start talking about it and thinking about it. 

Looking back on the past two weeks, Emma had to admit, life with Killian had been splendid. Not only did she go to sleep happy, she spent her entire day that way. She couldn’t find one negative thing to say. Plus, it affected her in other parts of her life. She was calmer, more willing to let things just happen. 

Life before Killian was good, but it wasn’t great. It was nice, but not fantastic. She was happy, but not ecstatic to be living every single day. 

She knew what word could describe what she was feeling. She knew what her heart felt, and maybe, after two weeks of living with someone she had really known her whole life, even with the distance, she was ready to confess how she felt. 

She loved him.

Her life was complete with Killian. He completed her soul. It was like she had never really seen anything around her since he left, and now that he was back, her entire being burst into color. 

She loved him for everything he did for her. She loved the way he held her, loved the way he listened. She loved the dopey look on his face when he talked about something he really enjoyed. She loved the hunger he had for life. She loved the trouble he had been through, and the person it had made him. But, more importantly, she loved that he loved her.

Was she 100% positive he loved her? Yes. Was she sure that his love was true and as deep as what she felt towards him? No. 

So, there she was: deeply in love with someone she was pretty sure she had been in love with since childhood; she just wasn’t sure she could tell him just yet. 

Plus, she wanted to hear him say it first. 

When she had told Neal she loved him, she was met with a kiss on the cheek and a “thanks, babe”. He never said it back and looking back now, Emma knew if he had, she wouldn’t have believed him. She also knew she didn’t really mean the words. They were the words of a girl, one who didn’t know what true love could feel like. What a love, a deep and pure love, really meant.

So she was scared to tell him. Emma knew he wouldn’t speak to her how Neal did; but there was still that fear of what might happen.

Their third week of living together was odd. Emma had become awkward around Killian, especially when they were left alone. On Sunday, before game night and a rowdy game of Monopoly, Killian invited Emma to go to a Color Me Mine. She couldn’t say no, as it was something her mother and his used to take them to when they were little. 

The drive there was silent. Rarely would they need the radio, since normally they would have a steady conversation flowing; but that day, Emma wished he would turn it on. She caught him glancing at her a few times, with a worried expression on his face, but he never asked her what was wrong. 

It was a special painting day, just for adults, with mimosas for the taking. Emma steered clear from that table, knowing the alcohol in her system would loosen her lips, and she still wasn’t ready to tell Killian what she was feeling. She started to realize she was also scared it would change things between them. Love did that--changed relationships. Some came out fine after the four-letter revelations, while others didn’t last because the people started acting crazy. 

Killian didn’t let Emma’s mood deter his plans. He started talking about work, about a new TV show that was starting, about the pottery they had chosen. He wasn’t letting her silence get to him. He must have gotten tired of the one-sided conversation after a while though, because before Emma could stop him, he reached over with his brush and drew a blue line on her nose. 

That got her out of her shell. She was mad at first--how could she not be? But when she saw the playful smile on Killian’s face, she relaxed. What was she even worried about? It was Killian, after all. If they could still be close after him moving thousands of miles away, they could weather any storm. 

So, while the paint brought Emma back out of her own mind, things were still awkward. She wasn’t quite sure how to behave around him anymore. She didn’t want to give away her feelings. But she wanted to be around him, touch him and feel him, just as much, if not more, than before. But there was still that worry in her mind that he would see right through her, that he wouldn’t feel exactly how she felt, that their entire relationship would change. 

Sex with him was still good, but she tried to disconnect her feelings from it all, trying not to yell out her love for him every time he touched her. 

Finally, on Saturday, at the end of the third and most awkward week, she invited Mary Margaret and Ruby over while Killian took Henry to the comic store. She needed their advice before she ruined everything. 

She knew Killian thought something was wrong. He had even asked her, once a day since Sunday. He asked her each night before bed  _ is everything OK love? Are we good _ ? And each night she responded the same.  _ Yes, of course.  _ She meant it, too--there wasn’t anything wrong and they were OK; it was just her and her own silly thoughts. But she knew it wasn’t fair to either of them to keep things going the way they were. 

“Spill it, Emma. What’s going on?…. Holy shit, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Ruby asked, in traditional Ruby fashion.

“Ruby,” Mary Margaret scolded. 

“What?” her friend countered.

“No, I’m not pregnant. Besides, we’ve only been together that way for a week,” she responded.

“Well I knew you were getting some ass; no one is that happy without getting some ass,” Ruby said, a Cheshire grin splashed across her face. 

“Stop it, Ruby.” Mary Margaret swatted at her friend sitting next to her. 

“Ok, so if you’re not pregnant and I’m not allowed to ask about your probably titillating sex life, what can we talk about?” Ruby jested.

Emma sighed, unsure how to tell them what she had been thinking. She knew they would be helpful--well, they would be once Mary Margaret calmed down from the shock she would undoubtedly have and the horror Ruby would show. 

“Emma, what’s wrong?” Mary Margaret asked, reaching her hand across the table, grasping Emma’s. Her hands were warm from hold the cup of coco that Emma had made for her friends. 

“It’s not that anything is wrong. It’s more everything's so right I’m not sure what to do or what to say,” she tried to explain. 

“Just say it, Emma,” Ruby almost screamed, all of them wanting Emma to just stop beating around the bush. 

“I love him,” Emma finally breathed.

She was right about her friend’s reactions. Just like when she told him all about Killian a few weeks prior, Mary Margaret was overly excited, and probably already planning a wedding and nurseries in her head, while Ruby tried to look excited, but her indifference for her friend could be seen in her eyes. 

“When did you know?” Mary Margaret questioned, trying to hide her excitement.

“I’m not really sure. It wasn’t like I stopped one day and just knew. I just got to thinking about how different everything has been, how much better everything has been, and it’s all because of him,” she explained. 

“So why do you look sick to your stomach, then?” Ruby asked. 

She had filled Ruby in on the bet they had the week prior, knowing it wasn’t fair for Mary Margaret to know and to leave her other friend out of the loop. Ruby understood it, but was more interested in their bedroom activities than the feelings that surrounded it in the first place. 

“Because there was something about the bet that I didn’t tell you all about,” she whispered, looking down into her mug of cocoa.

“What is it?” Mary margaret asked.

“It’s kinda a shitty thing,” she continued to stare into her mug, her hand stirring 

“What stupid thing did he do?” Ruby spat.

“It wasn’t him,” she said, still refusing to meet the eyes of her friend. 

“Emma.” Mary Margaret’s mothering tone made Emma finally make eye contact, and she wasn’t surprised to see no judgement in her eyes.

She knew no matter what, her friends would have her back. 

“Well, when Killian first brought the whole thing up, I was completely blindsided and of course thought he was crazy; but I couldn’t help but think about how maybe him being crazy could lead to something I’ve been dreaming about for a while,” she started. 

Mary Margaret must have caught on because the shock that crossed her face told Emma it was a shitty thing she had thought.

“It was fleeting; well, mostly. I mean, I still think about how marrying Killian would not only make me insanely happy, but give me something I’ve been dreaming of. How can you not think about having your cake and eating it too?” Her confession wasn’t fully out there, but she was getting there, building up the confidence to say it aloud. 

“Well, of course it’s ok to think about, but it’s another thing to act on it,” Mary Margaret said. 

“Wait, I’m not 100% sure what you are saying?” Ruby chimed.

“So, the agency keeps telling me it’s very unlikely that I’m going to ever adopt Henry without a spouse to help. When Killian brought up marriage, it was like a switch went off. Killian was offering me something on a silver platter, so I thought, why not? I can marry him, and finally be able to adopt Henry.”

The way she said it, was a stark reminder of the horrible thought she had. What type of person would think that, do that to someone? As she said the words in a bright voice - the first voice she had used - she heard the disgust in the thought.

“Is that really why you asked me, Swan?” A hurt voice came from behind her. 

Killian stood in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his arms, her son standing next to him, mouth hanging open. The heartbreak in Killian’s eyes killed her. She felt her heart disintegrate inside her chest. 

“Killian, I can explain,” she started, but before she could say anything, Killian disappeared from the doorway. 

She rose from the table, tears now in her eyes. She pushed past Henry who had finally closed his mouth as was staring at her in anger. As she reached the hallway, she heard the screeching of tires. 

His Jeep was tearing down the street as Emma stood in her doorway, tears streaming down her face. Her hands clenched on the doorframe. 

“I love you,” she whispered to the wind, praying the words would make it to Killian and bring him back to her. 


	13. Chapter 13

What do you do when you fuck things up so bad? That was the question Emma had been pondering over the last week ever since Killian walked out of their home, speeding off in his Jeep, leaving her crying against the doorframe thanks to her stupid mouth and thoughts. 

She can’t believe how shitty she had been for even thinking she could use her friend to adopt Henry. She was even more stupid for not telling him the truth from the beginning. 

If only she had just told him -  _ hey, so I still have feelings for you, and while I am attracted to you and I am excited to see where this goes, I also like the idea because it would help me adopt Henry.  _ She knew if she had told him that, he would have helped her out. 

It was he who had come up with their stupid promise all those years ago. He was the one who promised her they would marry. If he hadn’t brought it up, all the fucked up shit wouldn’t have happened.

She tried blaming him, but she knew it was all her fault. She caused this.

The rest of the weekend after he left found Emma being picked up by David, who Mary Margaret called after Killian left, and set in her bed. The lights were turned off, drapes drawn. Mary Margaret and Ruby took care of Henry, who still hadn’t spoken to her, heartbroken over the shake up, too. 

He was so upset with her that he too left, asking David if he could stay the night. She let him go, with more tears streaming from her face. 

She hated that she not only upset the man she loved, but upset her son, the person she would do anything to protect. She promised him that things wouldn’t change between them when Killian entered the picture, yet she let them change. She still loved Henry, but she disappointed him - something she’s never done before. That’s what changed. 

Her bed became her home on Sunday. She didn’t want to eat, drink, or do anything. She didn’t want to continue. She couldn’t go on thinking and pretending like Killian leaving didn’t mean anything. The crying had ceased for most of the day though, thanks to the cocoon she made using her comforter that still held the smell of him. She imagined that he didn’t leave her; imagined him holding her in his arms, telling her that he understood. But it was all a dream. 

Henry came home on Sunday night, but didn’t say anything to her. He walked straight past her as she stood in the hallway, hoping to explain herself. At least she didn’t get a slamming door. That was a start. 

Tears came again that night, as she stared at the bed. The night before was hard, but the sobs that racked her body lulled her to sleep - not worried about the missing person beside her. This night was different. She felt the missing presence. The room was too big without him; too quiet. The laughter they had shared still echoed in her mind, but not being able to really hear it, to visualize it, shocked her system. It disoriented her. 

Sleep didn’t come.

Her hand spent the night rubbing the spot on the bed that was normally occupied. Her eyes glossed over from the staring. The tears stopped around midnight, but the shaking didn’t. It was like she was perpetually cold, and nothing but Killian would be able to warm her up. 

She didn’t just miss him - she was a ghost without him. 

Henry found her the next morning, silent tears dropping into her coffee mug. The absence of his note made the emotions reappear. 

At first, she wasn’t sure he was going to talk to her; and just like with Killian, she didn’t want to be the first one to talk. She had fucked this up; because of that, she was the one who needed to suffer, to give them time and space to deal with everything. 

“Have you even tried to call him?” A snarky voice pulled him from her mug.

The scowl her son wore on his face was devastating. If she didn’t know him any better, she would say there was actual hatred in his eyes; but she knew Henry didn’t have it in himself to hate anyone, no matter what they did. 

“What?” she asked, with a bit of sass, like any other mother would do if their son copped an attitude like the one her son was giving her. 

Henry shrank back, realizing what he had said. 

“I’m sorry,” he started, keeping his eyes cast down. Emma suddenly felt bad. 

Henry’s relationship with Killian meant a lot to him. Emma was pretty sure that Henry missed him almost as much as she did. 

“Have you talked to him?” he asked a bit more softly, his eyes staying glued to the floor. 

“No,” she said flatly.

“Have you tried?” The attitude of his feelings peaked out a bit.

“Yes,” she replied.

That made him look up.

“Sit down, Henry,” she motioned to the chair at the table. 

He sat down, taking a pop tart out of the box that he had moved to the table earlier. His glass of milk, half full, sat nearby.

“First, I’m sorry,” she started but she couldn’t get out the rest before Henry began a rapid fire questioning.

“Why would you even think that? How could you treat Killian that way? Did you even think about how he would feel? Did you even like him?” 

She reached across the table, grasping his hand, prompting him to silence the questions and look at her.

“Henry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. But what you have to know if the full story. What you and Killian walked in on wasn’t exactly what it seemed.”

“Then what was it?” He questioned, his hand staying beneath hers, but closed off and cold.

“When Killian and I were younger, we made a promise - or well, he did. We had gotten married when we were five; a silly thing kids do, ya know? But when Killian moved away, he promised that one day he would come back and marry me. We didn’t talk again until a few weeks ago. He brought it up, in what I’m sure was just a teasing manner, but he still mentioned it. It was right after we had heard about the application being denied again. Ms. Mills told me that if I wanted any chance of adopting you before high school, the only way it would happen was if I got married. Now, of course I wasn’t going to marry just anyone in order to adopt you. But Killian, I knew him. He was my best friend; still is. So, for a fleeting moment, one that I hate myself for even thinking, I thought that he was the answer.”

She could see the anger still in his eyes. She could see the disappointment. But, she persisted, because he needed to know how she really felt. It was time for Emma Swan to stop keeping it all inside, and just feel.

“The next day, I did ask Killian to marry me. Part of it, yes, was because I knew it would help our situation. I would get you, permanently, and you would get a family. But, it was a bonus. Like finding out they are serving cake at school, then to find out it’s Funfetti, your favorite. I had been thinking a lot about Killian before he messaged me. Plus, the connection we had the night we reunited was something I couldn’t ignore. So why should I give up something, just because there was an added bonus?” She asked him.

“But Mom, it’s not the same. No one gets hurt if the cake is Funfetti! This, thinking that, hurt us,” he countered. 

And although Emma’s heart was breaking over what happened, she couldn’t help but smile. Henry had an amazing moral compass, and she was proud of the young man he was becoming. 

“I know kid, which is why I didn’t tell anyone. I know it was wrong to even think that I could use Killian like that. But, over time, I just kept seeing it as something good. An added bonus. I always knew though it was bad,” she confessed.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him? Or me?” he responded.

“Because, something happened that has never happened for me before,” she smiled at him, he raised his eyebrows in return, “I fell in love. Sure, I love grandma and pop, Mary Margaret and David, you; but I’ve never been  _ in  _ love. Until Killian. By the time I knew what I was feeling, by the time I wasn’t scared to tell him what I was feeling, it was all over. That’s what you two walked in on; I was trying to find out a way to tell Killian everything,” the tears started again.

“So, you wouldn’t marry him, just because it would help you adopt me?” He asked.

“No!” She was resolute. Her expression firm, but full of love as she stared at him. 

“Good,” he smiled.

Henry stood up from his chair and came over to hug her. She sat in her chair and let her son wrap his arms around her frame, his head resting on hers.

“I’m sorry kid, I know you love him too,” she whispered.

“He’s ok,” he chuckled.

“To get back to your questions though, I have always thought about his feelings, which was one reason I never told either of you. I didn’t want him to think poorly of me, or think that that devious thought was the only reason why I did any of this. I can’t lie anymore and say that I didn’t think those thoughts, but my feelings for Killian are much stronger and louder than that thought,” she answered. 

She started pouring out everything she felt about the situation to her son. While she was pretty sure it wasn’t a conversation one normally had with their teenage son, Emma knew there was no one else she would rather talk to. Besides, Henry was a smart kid and gave better advice than Ruby most days. 

“But, it doesn’t matter now; Killian left and we just have to pick up the pieces,” she sighed. 

“No, call him, tell him what you just told me,” Henry said, running into her bedroom to get the phone she had left on the charger. 

“He doesn’t want to talk to me Henry,” she sighed, looking down at the phone that haunted her the night before.

“Try,” the pleading in his voice was hard to say no to.

So, she lifted the phone and made the call she had made a dozen times in the past twenty four hours. The first few times she called him, she held her breath as the phone rang and rang, eventually being cut off by his simple voicemail  _ You’ve reached Jones, leave a message _ . The first time she heard his voice she sobbed. She never got the chance to get any words out. The second time, she begged him to call her back. Her voice mails got more desperate as each passing call hit his outgoing message. She cried, telling him that she needed to talk to him. She never told him the full truth, though. That deserved a face-to-face conversation. 

However, after the tenth call, his phone stopped ringing. His voice echoed through the phone right away as his number was dialed. 

She pressed the button, sending the call through. Again, she held her breath like he first phone call she had made. 

She thought she heard a click, signaling that the phone call had been ignored; his voice soon creating the same speech she had heard time and time again. 

“Hey, it’s me. I talked to Henry and explained everything. Please call me back, so I can explain everything to you. Please Killian,” she hung up. Defeated. 

“See, he doesn’t want to talk to me,” she said, looking at her son.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, returning to the position he held earlier, hugging her.

“It’s ok; let’s go to school,” she suggested, noting the time.

Life had to move on, even if it didn’t seem like a life she wanted to live. 

**********

Emma rarely showed videos in her class. When she did, they were clips that helped her to actually teach what she was going to teach. But she just didn’t have it in her that day to do anything. Her students deserved a teacher who was there 100% and that wasn’t Emma. Not that day at least. 

At least the video picked her up a bit. 

_ Bill Nye the Science Guy  _ May be old; but it held merit. Plus, she hadn’t been approved to show his new show yet. She had great worksheets to go along with the videos and young Bill Nye was pretty good looking. 

By the time Henry’s class rolled around, Emma was starting to feel normal again - at least a little. 

“Hey, Mom,” Henry said as he strutted into the classroom; their talk from earlier that morning had changed his entire mood. 

“Hey, kid,” she responded, trying to sound light and happy.

“Can I go over to Avery’s after school? We have a project we need to work on, and we want to finish it early,” he asked, with a bit too much enthusiasm.

“A project?” She asked, knowing there was no way her kid was that excited about a school project, even if he did enjoy school.

“Alright, fine, the new DLC for Battlefield came out today and we want to play it; we do have a project though, that we were going to do afterwards,” he confessed, hope lacing his voice. 

“I’m not so sure…” she began but Henry cut her off quickly. 

“Avery’s mom’s gonna be home, and you know she isn’t going to let us play for too long. Please?” He begged drawing out the please in a way she hadn’t heard since he was younger.

“Alright, fine; but you’re home by seven, understood?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ok! Thanks Mom,” he said, turning to walk to his seat.

_ Great, another lonely night at home _ , she thought to herself. Just when she thought things were getting better. 

*********

Henry did make it home by seven, but he said goodnight and went straight to bed when he entered the house. Emma knew she wasn’t going to need to cook dinner since Avery’s mom always fed Henry before he came home. Still, she waited in the kitchen for his arrival, hoping for some human contact. 

During the long hours between her arriving home and Henry, she realized just how lonely she had been before Killian. 

Her nights before him were mostly solitary. Sure, she had Henry, but as he had been growing up, school, sports, band, friends, and everything else started getting in the way. She thought back on all the nights she spent alone in her sunroom reading a book, or laughing alone to a comedy on the TV. 

Now that she had experienced what life could be like as an actual family, she craved it even more. 

Maybe she should get a cat. 

Maybe she was just losing her mind in the loneliness. 

When Avery’s mom dropped Henry off, as she normally did, Emma could have sworn she heard the familiar sound of a specific Jeep rumbling in her drive. Her mind games even took her as far as standing up from her chair, inching her closer to the window. But, she stopped herself. It wouldn’t, couldn’t, be him.

She still wished it would be though. 

She wished it would be him walking in behind Henry, coming back to let her apologize and correct her mistakes. Wished Killian would tell her everything was alright and their love was stronger than all the bullshit that had happened. She even believed he would tell her they both had fucked up in the past, and if she could forgive him for losing touch for so many years, then he could forgive her for thinking something anyone in her position would think.

But, when the door closed behind Henry and she didn’t hear anything else, she knew it wasn’t going to happen. 

That night, she curled up in bed, tucking Killian’s pillow against her body and breathing in deep, a silent stream of tears coming down her face. 

*********

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were much of the same. Emma had a pretty silent breakfast with Henry. His questioning on Killian hadn’t resurfaced, which Emma was thankful for. She did try to call him each morning, even sent him texts. She stopped apologizing in every voicemail and text. They weren’t ever going to be enough. Instead, she told him about her day. Her phone calls in the morning consisted of her simply wishing him a good day, telling him to be safe. Her texts at night followed the same outline. She told him how she missed him, how her days were still shitty without him; but that she hoped he had a good day. She always ended them with a good night. 

They were all left unanswered and unread. 

She even tried to Facebook him, but her messages there met the same end. 

Worry was starting to set in; maybe something had happened to him. She knew he needed space and time, but she didn’t think Killian was so mean as to simply ignore her. 

She sent him a simple message on Thursday evening, when she got home and the silence became too much. 

Facebook messenger sat open on her phone, the bar blinking, waiting for her to type. While her message was simple, it took almost two hours for her to complete the message. 

_ Killian, I know you’re angry. I know you’re mad. But, I’m beginning to worry. Please, just let me know you’re OK and I’ll leave you alone. I promise. Just tell me you’re OK and I’ll stop calling and messaging. Emma. _

She didn’t have the strength to wait and see if he had read it. She knew if she waited to see, she would be up all night, staring at the screen, praying the same way she had all week for him to respond, or even just read, the message. 

_ I’ll know in the morning _ , she thought to herself. With that, she turned off the phone and took the bottle of wine that Mary Margaret had brought to school for her, into her bathroom. She drank the whole bottle while in the tub; wishing she had someone in there with her. Thankfully though, she was drunk enough when she got out, she was able to fall into a deep, restless, dreamless sleep. 

The headache she had in the morning was worth it. 

She turned on her phone. No notifications, minus her normal daily email subscriptions, pinged. Her heart fell as nothing appeared on her screen. Did he really care so little for her? Was he really that hurt? 

She didn’t bother to check to see if he read her message. She was too angry. 

After Killian left her all those years ago, after he just stopped writing to her, she still forgave him. After all he said he had done, been through, she never once truly held it against him. The second she saw him again, she forgave him. That’s what best friends, soul mates did. They forgave. No matter what, they forgave. 

The day dragged on, with her phone silently calling out to her to take a peak. But she never did. She wanted to - she couldn’t lie - but she couldn’t force herself to look. She didn’t want the pain that she was sure she would face. 

When school ended, Emma was faced with another evening by herself. Henry had asked to go over to Avery’s house again, and since Emma had tried to get as much of Henry’s attention over the past couple of days (in order to quell the feeling of loneliness), she allowed him. She didn’t turn on the radio on her drive home, deciding to get used to the silence before it engulfed her. She heard every creak of the car, heard the pelting of the rain that had started early that afternoon. The sound was soothing really; the constant drum of water hitting the metal. 

She was tempted to drive around, not wanting to sit at home in the silence. She knew she could hear the rain just as well in her sunroom, and she could actually watch the drops chase each other down the window panes. But the comfort of the car would be lost. In the bug, she felt snug and protected. It was small, so her breathing filled the space; she could see everything. The loneliness didn’t feel as large. She knew once she stepped foot inside the house, where she wouldn’t be able to see everything and hear everything, the feeling would swallow her whole. In the car, she didn’t feel like anyone else was needed; it was her sanctuary. But her home didn’t feel like home anymore; not when a major part of it was missing.

After two hours of driving, she knew she needed to go home. Her bladder and rumbling stomach left her no choice. It was time to face reality, to get used to coming home to emptiness.

Her street even looked different. Most would see the fallen leaves and wet pavement as picturesque - the early evening casting a glow against the concrete and the street lights creating shadows on the ground. It was the perfect fall scene, but to Emma, it was cold and uninviting. To her, it was a reminder of the coldness she would feel when she entered in her home.

She didn’t get the chance to determine if her feelings were right though. 

In the driveway, where a Jeep used to park, was a truck she wasn’t familiar with. It towered over her bug, making the area that she parked in look darker than normal. 

Most people who would see a giant truck parked in their driveway would keep driving, call the cops, and find out what maniac was in their home. Emma though, pulled right in. While the truck looked menacing, it didn’t scare her. She rarely got a gut feeling, outside of knowing when people lied to her; but it was talking now. It told her she didn’t have to be scared of the truck that sat in her drive. That she wanted to find out who it belonged to. 

As she drove into her spot, she noted no one in the front seat, but did note a figure on her porch. Her porch was small, just big enough for one person to stand on, covered. 

Her eyes zoned in as she put her car in park and gathered her things.

She didn’t bother with an umbrella, wanting the rain to send chills up her spine. 

As she got out of the car, the rain hitting her head and pooling on her jacket, she recognized the figure that loomed in her doorway. 

Liam Jones.

He had been back in Storybrooke for years, yet Emma hadn’t seen him once. It was odd for Storybrooke. It was a small town and normally, you saw a person at least once a month. Everyone knew everyone else, gossip spread like wildfire, so the fact that Emma hadn’t seen Liam had been odd. She knew he was back of course, but she also knew through the town gossip that Killian hadn’t come with him. So she never reached out. 

While she thought of Liam as a big brother, she hadn’t been as close to him as she was to Killian or his mom. She kept a look out too; hoping that if she saw a glimpse of him, feelings and memories of Killian would come flooding backs yet, she never saw him.

“Hey, Emma,” he said as she neared him. His tone was somber, and so was the look on his face. 

“Liam,” she said, looking him square in the face. 

He stepped out from her porch and into the rain, allowing her access to her door. She didn’t say anything to him though as she entered. She hoped he knew what her open door meant. 

She didn’t give him any pleasantries. Walking into her home, she listened deeply, hoping to hear some form of noise signaling that someone was in there with her, but she heard nothing. A wave of relief washed over her. Maybe he wasn’t there for what she initially thought.

When she saw him standing there, she thought that either Killian was inside, gathering his stuff to make a silent exit from her life, or maybe Liam was there to get his stuff for him. 

So to hear the silence inside was one of the best sounds she’d ever heard. But, she still knew there was another bad reason Liam could have been there. 

She heard footsteps behind her, they were timid and a bit unsure. 

“Emma,” Liam whispered, not venturing any further from her doorstep. 

“Just give me a minute to get his stuff and I’ll bring it out to you. Make yourself comfortable,” she said, turning to finally look at him. 

There were tears in her eyes, a normal look for her the past few days. The tears this time though were harder for her to let fall. She knew that the tears she was shedding were because what she had with Killian. what she still wanted with Killian, was over. 

“Shit. Emma, that’s not why I’m here,” he said, finally moving into the house, closing the gap between them.

“You’re not?” The question barely escaped her lips before a sob caught in her throat.

“Christ,” he responded, pulling her into a hug.

Just like with Killian, a familiar feeling washed over her. And with the feelings, she broke down.

With Liam holding her, just like he had one summer when Killian had hurt himself and Emma was scared she had ruined their friendship, she let everything she had been feeling over the past week take full hold. Yes, she had cried over it, and she constantly felt like shit over it; she didn’t feel the full weight of what she had done until Liam held her.

“I fucked up so bad, Liam,” she confessed, looking up at him, silently begging him to fix everything that was wrong.

“He’s a mess, too,” he answered.

“He is?” She couldn’t believe it, not really; not when he had been ignoring her. 

“Of course he is. Sit down, let’s talk,” he motioned for Emma to move into the living room.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she cried, the tears still coming. 

“I may have an idea; but first, I need to tell you what’s been going on with Killian the last week,” he began, capturing Emma’s attention. “He was so upset on Sunday. I’ve never seen him so sad. I've seen him upset before - angry and hurt - but never have I seen him truly heartbroken. Even after Milah, he wasn’t truly heartbroken. But, when he heard you, his heart shattered. I told him he should give it sometime and talk to you, but you know him. He won’t do anything until he is ready. He’s been lost since then. In all the time he’s been in the Navy, not once has he taken off work, but he actually called out sick. It’s been a long week.”

During Liam's recollection of the week, Emma couldn’t stop the tears. She had been a wreck, and Killian had been suffering just as bad as she had. So, not only had she hurt him once, she hurt him twice. 

“The only thing that seemed to make him happy was when your kid came to talk to him,” Liam added.

“Wait, what?” Emma asked, stunned at what Liam said.

“Yeah, Killian actually looked happy - the only time he looked happy this week. Henry showed up on Monday, banging down my door begging to talk to Killian. I’m not sure what they talked about, but your lad looked pretty smug when Killian drove him home,” Liam laughed at the reminder. 

Emma couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been losing her mind on Monday. She did hear his Jeep. Something stirred in her heart. If he drove Henry home, he must still something for her right? Especially if Henry looked smug. 

Before she did anything else though, she made a mental note to scold Henry when she got a moment. Even though she was pretty sure Henry had only lied to her to help her, she still needed to make sure he knew it was wrong.

“The little meddler,” she said.

“Aye, that he is,” he said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“You have to fix this, Emma,” he said again.

“I do, but he won’t answer my calls. I’ve messaged him, texted, called - done everything trying to get in touch with him. He doesn’t want to speak to me,” she threw her hands up in frustration. 

“I know,” he confessed, causing Emma to look confused. She knew Killian and Liam were close; but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t tell Liam this - it wasn’t gentalemenly. 

“Killian left early today for work, some meeting..So I took the opportunity to go in and clean up a bit - that’s when I saw your message. I can’t sit around anymore and watch him like this. You may have done something wrong, but everyone deserves a second chance. And unfortunately, my brother isn’t going to get off his ass to fix this, so you have to. You need to show him how you feel,” he said.

Emma knew he was right. But, knowing was easier than doing. 

“How do I even do that?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna tell you exactly what to do, but I will tell you that everything you need to know can be found in here,” he handed Emma a large box, gave her a wink and left. 

“Good luck!” he called from the doorway, 

Emma sat in silence for a long time, not doing anything. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to open the box - she wanted nothing more than to look and see what was inside that held the key to fixing her relationship - but she had to take a moment. 

She pulled off the top and looked inside. 

At first, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at; but then she saw the old, yet familiar scribble of a young Killian. Envelopes filled the box. She filtered through the box, watching the scribble turn into pretty legible handwriting. On all of them, two words were written. 

_ Emma Swan _

The realization of what she was staring at finally came to her. Letters. Killian had been writing Emma letters all along. He never stopped. From the quick count she did of the box; he had written her at least twice a month since the month he stopped. 

Something told her it was wrong to read the letters that were there. However. Liam gave them to her and she was already on Killian’s bad side. 

Eventually, time won out. Henry came home, which meant that two hours had passed since Liam had met her on the doorstep. 

She quickly hid the box, not wanting any questions as she tried to figure out what to do. 

They ate a traditional “pre-Killian” dinner: grilled cheese and hot cocoa. They had normal “pre-Killian” discussions - Henry discussed school and video games while Emma nodded along like she really cared about the newest DLC. 

Henry wanted to watch a TV show after dinner, so another hour passed before she was able to take a look at the box again and finally make a decision about what to do. 

She held the box in her hands as she looked at the empty spot where Killian’s presence still lingered. 

Looking at the spot, she knew she needed to read the letters.

She started with the first letter in the box. 

It took four hours, but she read each and every one. She read about his mom dying and the guilt he felt about it. She read about the first fight he got into in school. He wrote about his feelings for another little girl. Emma cried as she read the letters detailing his sadness over his mom. She laughed at his antics from middle school. She was right when he talked about jealousy when he spoke of Milah. 

Eventually she got the end and realized the perfect way to tell Killian everything she needed to.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to CSBB for once again organizing an amazing event. I’ve been missing Captain Swan for the past year, and having this has helped so much! Thanks to Lana (@high-seas-swan) and Kaitlyn (@Spartanguard) for their beta help. Go check out Lana’s story when you get a moment as well – it’s amazing! Thanks to Rachel (@Ladyciaramiggles) for the art she has provided. Also, thanks to Kris (@sambethe) for the cover art for the story and for beta help. All of you have made this story what it is! Enjoy the final chapter! On a little note, there is a part at the end that may not seem super realistic; but I thought it was cute - and hey, it’s an AU so anything is possible!

It was a long week without Emma Swan. Killian was pretty sure he was in hell without her; but the pain he felt when he heard her speak to her friends about the real reason she started their relationship hurt more. 

He walked around in a daze without her. His bed felt too large and empty without her. He missed her breathing, her smell, her laugh. He missed the way her eyes danced with a passion when looking at him, they way they glistened when she smiled. He missed her next to him - her body touching his, causing his blood to simmer in a way no one else could.

Yet the sting he felt when he heard the words leave her lips chilled him to the bone and made each feeling her felt for her hurt more. He missed her, but his heart was broken.

Never before had he felt this way. He thought the world had ended when Milah left, but it only took a few days for him to realize that she wasn’t right for him and there was still light in his life. He thought he was in pain when his mother died, and the most important, biggest part of his life became missing; but none of it compared to what he was feeling now.

Emotions wracked his system. He was angry, and that anger would turn into pain and heartbreak in a second. The heartbreak would then be overtaken by grief and sadness. That would turn into loneliness and a feeling of confusion for how would he continue on without her.

He wanted to forgive her, wanted to go running back into her arms, begging her to forgive him for his behavior. He wanted to demand the truth on how she felt; because in his heart, he knew that she wouldn’t just propose marriage only to get Henry. She must have feelings for him. However, he still had to question everything that happened. He couldn’t help it. The nagging thought sat at the back of his head. What if she had only done this simply to get Henry? 

He thought about it. 

She probably only met with him that first night as just to get things over with - for old times sake. She probably only forgave him because it was the nice thing to do, something you did for old friends. When he brought up their old promise, he could see the confusion in her face. It wasn’t until later that she brought it up again. After a long period of thought, he was sure--she was probably thinking that she could get Henry quicker, without having to marry a stranger or a creep.

The whole week, that was his thought process - even after Henry came over, trying to get him to come home.

His phone had been ringing steadily on Sunday, then he just got annoyed and threw it at the wall, mad at her and himself. But, he had forgotten he had given Henry his duty phone number - only to be used in case of emergency. 

He thought back to the afternoon Henry called and came by.

_ “Jones,” he barked out, picking up the phone, cursing whatever sailor had the balls to call him after he had called out sick.  _

_ Normally, he would have to go into work, see the on-call doctor, and then go home; but his commanding officer had been lenient. When he called that morning, his CO was surprised, but said he could just take the day, as long as his ass was at work the next day.  _

_ “Hey,” a small voice, timidly answered. “It’s me, Henry; don’t hang up,” the last part came out quickly with a nervous hint. _

_ “Henry?” he questioned. _

_ “I know you said this number was for emergency only; but it is,” he spit out quickly. _

_ Panic set in - every single worry Killian ever had about Emma flashed through his mind. _

_ “What’s wrong?” The concern evident in his tone. _

_ “I couldn’t get a hold of you. You have to forgive mom, you have to talk to her. Please, Killian,” he begged. Killian was pretty sure Henry was at school. Things must be pretty bad for Henry to call in the middle of the school day.  _

_ “Henry…” he began, but the boy cut him off.  _

_ “Please. She’s a mess. I’ve never seen her so upset. Never. You have to talk to her, let her explain things. Give her a second chance,” Henry begged, rather quickly, which told him that Henry wasn’t in class where he should be.  _

_ “Henry, this isn’t something you can fix,” he tried to calm him down, but his words did nothing. _

_ He heard a ringing over the phone, probably signaling the end of a class period or the start of one. _

_ “Crap,” he heard Henry mutter. “Can I come by and see you? After school,” Henry’s words were louder now. Killian could picture him now; the boy was probably huddled in a bathroom, trying to get out the call before the change of class ended.  _

_ “Ok, I’ll text you the address,” Killian replied, not wanting to keep him, and knowing that if he didn’t, Henry wouldn’t get off the phone. _

_ “Thanks,” he ended the call with the thought.  _

_ Later that afternoon, Henry pounded on Liam’s front door, with such a force that surprised Killian.  _

_ “Hey, lad; come in,” Killian gestured to the front room. _

_ _

_ Before he joined him, however, he took a peek outside, a little bit worried that Henry tricked him into the meeting and Emma would be waiting for him. He wouldn’t put it past the lad. His aunt was the queen of meddling, after all. He probably learned from her. So, not seeing Emma sitting in her bug outside his house was a bit disappointing, but a relief at the same time.  _

_ “Killian, you have to go see her, listen to her,” he begged, not skipping a beat, getting straight to the point.  _

_ “Henry, what happened between your mom and I, it isn’t something I can just get over, you know that right?” Killian asked, hoping Henry would understand that even though friends can forgive just about anything, somethings were just too much to come back from. _

_ “But you don’t even know the whole story,” his annoyance at the situation clear. _

_ “That’s not the point though, Henry. The point is, your mother lied to me; she led me to believe one thing when the other was true. She played me,” Killian said deflated. It was the first time he was actually confessing his feelings about the whole thing. Liam had asked, but he kept it short, not wanting to think I about it - especially knowing Liam and what would surely be his insistence that Killian man up and listen to her before doing anything rash.  _

_ “But that isn’t what really happened!” Henry’s anger was evident. His fist pounded into the cushion of the couch.  _

_ Killian stared at him, eyebrow raised in question. He didn’t have to tell Henry he was being unreasonable. They both were; but Henry’s wasn’t called for. Until Henry grew up, experienced love and heartbreak, he wouldn’t understand.  _

_ That was it after all. The pain was bad because Killian loved Emma. In his heart, the love still had roots. But he wasn’t sure the love was strong enough to withstand the hurricane she brought upon him.  _

_ He hadn’t told anyone he loved her. At times, he regretted it - not telling her every chance he got, especially with his history. But, he was also glad he had guarded his feelings. His heart barely survived this blow, and he knew it wouldn’t survive being ripped out and stepped on, which is what would have happened if he told her.  _

_ The pain he was feeling would only be multiplied if he had confessed his true feelings. Especially if she had said the words back, which he believed she would.  _

_ He knew it was an internal fight he would continue to have with himself. Did the love come before or after the using; did the love change her behavior and meaning; did the love have any effect at all? _

_ “She promised, you promised,” he heard Henry whisper to his lap. _

_ “What was that?” Killian asked. _

_ “You guys promised nothing would change. Before you two started dating or whatever. You guys said if you did move out, things wouldn’t change. But they have,” he replied. His eyes still down cast on his lap. _

_ “You’re right,” he said, causing Henry to look up. “We said nothing would change, and that’s my fault. I’m not gonna lie to you - things have; but I will always be there for you,” Killian said, moving to sit next to him. _

_ “Really? You’ll still come on the field trip with me next week?” Henry asked, his demeanor already changing. _

_ “Of course. The CO already approved my time off. I was going to the store later in the week to find a lunchbox, too!” Killian smiled.  _

_ “Good,” he smiled back.  _

_ They chatted for a few more hours. Killian already knew that Emma would expect Henry home by seven, and time was ticking by. But he didn’t want to give it up. He missed Henry’s company, even though they’d only been separated for a few days. Killian smiled as he thought about it. Not only had he invested his life in Emma, he invested in it Henry, too.  _

_ He couldn’t picture his life without either one of them in it. Even though he was still mad at Emma, even though he still couldn’t start processing what everything meant, he knew he would need to start thinking about allowing Emma to explain and mending the relationship he had with her. If not for him, for Henry.  _

_ “I’ll think about it,” Killian said, as the TV show they had been watching ended. _

_ “Huh?” Henry asked. _

_ “I’ll think about talking to your mom - about mending it all - but it’ll take time. I can’t promise we will make up, but I will promise that no matter what, I’ll always be there for you,” Killian said, a smile appearing on his face. _

_ “Thanks, Killian,” Henry smiled back. _

_ Killian looked over and noted the time.  _

_ “I better be getting you back,” he said, nodding his head towards to door.  _

_ Before they headed towards the car, Killian turned around to say one final thing to Henry; but before he was able to start, he was met with a force against his chest.  _

_ Henry was pressed again him, his arms wrapped around his back.  _

_ The hug took Killian by surprise. But, he enjoyed it. He wrapped his arms around Henry, clapping his hand against his back.  _

_ “I hope you and mom work things out; the house feels wrong without you,” he said, smiling up at Killian. _

_ “Aye, me too, Henry. Me too,” Killian replied. _

They decided on the ride back to not tell Emma about Henry’s sneaky meeting. It didn’t surprise him that Emma had no clue Henry had come to visit him. Mostly because Henry didn’t lie - it wasn’t really in his nature. So when Henry confessed, it made Killian laugh. Henry looked so excited to be getting away with it, the meddling, that Killian didn’t have the heart to tell on him. 

He was worried that Emma would come out and see him when his Jeep pulled into the driveway, but the doorway remained empty. 

Since he pulled back out of the drive, his feelings had been playing ping pong. 

He did think about Emma, and what everything meant; but he couldn’t decide what he wanted to feel. Or, every time he came to a decision, a voice inside his head would talk him out of it. 

That is what his week was like. Walking through like he was in fog.

Each day got easier though; each day, the fight between his head and heart was starting to die down. Things began to look clearer, the fog slowly lifting. At times, he thought he could even see the distance; what was there, in the place he so longed to get to, was unclear, but he knew things would start to lift soon.

It was getting easier for him to forgive what he heard Emma say, and the voice that told him she would never love him the way he loved her was getting smaller each day. 

While he wanted to thank his own mind, he knew in reality it was thanks to Henry and Liam. Henry pulled him from the verge of a deep depression. Killian knew Henry was just as upset over Emma’s words, so if the boy could forgive Emma, surely one day he could, too. But, unlike Henry, he knew it was going to take longer for his heart to heal; for the demons that lay in his mind to rest. 

Liam was patient. He knew not to pry too much. He learned his lesson after Milah. But that didn’t stop him for putting his two, or two hundred cents in. Each day, at least twice, Liam would ask if he spoke to Emma, if he was willing to give her another chance to explain herself. Each day, Killian’s answer was the same - he just wasn’t quite ready yet. He was pretty sure that Liam wouldn’t keep accepting that answer much longer. 

He could hear his brother’s words repeating in his head.

_ You love her; so just go get her. Forgive her. You’ve both made mistakes. No relationship is perfect. Stop being such a wanker.  _

His brother was right, as much as it pained him to admit it. 

They both made mistakes in the past. And while one angry voice in his head told him Emma’s mistake was worse, he knew that it didn’t really matter. Not really. Not in the long term. 

There was only one thing that really mattered - that he loved her.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he had loved Emma - truly, madly, deeply loved Emma - forever. 

By Saturday morning, his options were weighed, his thoughts fully processed, and his head and heart finally on the same page. 

He knew it was going to take some work - that they had to build back up the trust they once had in each other, that their mistakes would take some time to fully get over; but he was willing to make that happen. She was worth it; they were worth it.

Emma Swan was the love of his life and he wasn’t going to let her slip away simply because of a bruised ego and a slightly sprained heart. 

He readied himself quickly. When Killian stormed out of Emma’s a week prior, he didn’t return to get his things. He didn’t want to. It would make everything too real; plus, he determined it was his heart’s way of telling him he would be going back soon enough. Thankfully, he did have a bag in his Jeep with some essentials, including the letters he had written to her. 

What made him pack the letters that morning, he didn’t know, but he was glad he had. He hadn’t been able to read them during the past week, not needing a larger reminder of his need to have Emma in his life. He needed to be rational about it all. Reading those letters wouldn’t be rational. 

He moved through his room, throwing everything he would need in his bag. He paused though as he opened the bedside stand. The box of letters he had moved there on his first night back wasn’t there. 

Panic rode through his mind, matched with a horror of losing something he held so dear. Then he thought back through the week, hoping to remember if he took the letters with him anywhere. Nothing came to mind. 

He came to the next logical conclusion - Liam.

Why did it not surprise him that his brother was behind his missing letters?

Liam was a meddler - not as bad as Emma’s best friend, but he loved putting himself into Killian’s life. Killian knew it was because Liam had to take over at such a young age, becoming mother, father and brother all at the same time. Liam wasn’t sure which line to tread. 

So while it didn’t surprise Killian that Liam could have taken his letters, what left Killian stunned was he couldn’t figure out why. Normally, Liam would have already prodded him about the letters, either teasing him or using them as a way to get him to apologize to Emma. But Liam had had the letters for longer than a few hours - since he hadn’t seen Liam or heard from him since he left for work early the previous morning. It didn’t really make sense to him.

Killian heard a car turn outside. An engine cut off and heard a car door shut. He glanced at the clock; Liam was due home.

He grabbed the bag off his bed and headed to towards the door.

“You git, you better have those letters; I swear to God,” he shouted as he neared the door. 

Before he was able to throw the door open to confront his brother, the doorbell rang. 

He reached out and opened the door, stunned at what he saw on the other side. 

Emma stood there with a slight smile on her face, but fear and trepidation shone in her eyes. Her hands were white, holding a box that Killian was all too familiar with. Her hair was falling down around her shoulders. She was wearing one of his sweatshirts that he had left behind. Her favorite jeans hugging every curve of her body. She looked absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Yet, there was a deep sadness highlighting each of her features. Her eyes, while bright, were tinted red, signs of tears that had been flowing for days. Her skin was paler than before. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re pissed at me, and me showing up like this is probably crazy; but I just had to say one thing. I’m sorry. Ok? I’m sorry, Killian, for everything. Liam brought these to me. I read them. I know that probably angers you even more, but Liam told me I could find my answer in this; that I could fix everything with this. There’s something extra in there. Please read it. I’m sorry again,” she said quickly, not pausing to take a breath. She thrust the box back into his hands. 

Killian was stunned to silence and frozen on the spot. He barely registered his hands wrapping around the box; making sure it didn’t fall to the ground. Seconds ticked by as he listened to her, watched her, and took in everything from her. Her words filtered into his ears and brain; but they didn’t fully register. 

Not until she turned and ran to her car. 

He was still standing there, the box in his hands, watching her car speed off down the road. Why did she run like that? 

The words she had blurted out started to register within him. 

She was sorry; he could tell she meant it, too. The pain in her voice echoed in his mind. She had also verified what he thought - Liam had taken the letters. He had given them to Emma to read. 

Anger didn’t cover what he felt at that revelation. Most importantly because he didn’t feel anger at all. Not anger towards Emma at least. He couldn’t blame her for reading them, especially if Liam told her they were important. There was still slight anger for Liam though. 

Instead, he surprisingly felt relief. She finally knew everything he ever wanted to tell. His words finally reached her. It may not have been exactly how he wanted her to get the letters, but he was glad she had them. His writing held more emotion than he could physically say. It was easier for him to write down his feelings for her over time than for him to confess to her his love. 

The box started to feel heavy in his arms. She said something about the box holding something extra. He moved to the chairs that Liam had put on the porch. Fall was quickly setting in and the chairs would be useless in a few weeks. His hand reached up to scratch that spot behind his ear. The unknown of what she had left for him was driving his anxiety crazy. 

All the letters were how they should be when he opened the box. The very first letter he wrote to her in the front. His handwriting noticeable, as was the drawings he had put on the envelope. The letters followed in order, showing his growth and feelings. When he got to the end, behind the last letter he had written to her only a month prior, there was another letter. Pretty letters wrote out his name. Like the letters he wrote to her, the address was missing. The name took up the space, screaming at him to open it. The envelope was simple, no special drawings or notes. Just his name. 

He sat the box down on the table that was next to the chair. His hands came to hold the letter, raising it up for Killian to get a good look at it. He took a deep breath, a bit worried about what would be written in the letter. He knew it was from Emma, that she wrote the words that were on the pages found inside; but what they said was a mystery. A voice that he had pushed far into the depths of his mind came running back out.  _ That letter probably tells you to take a hike, get your stuff and get out _ . Thankfully, another voice told him he had nothing to worry about - that the letter was something good and he should just read it and see. 

There was one piece of paper inside, along with a photo. 

The photo was newly printed, but held history. He instantly recognized the people in the picture: a younger version of himself and Emma. Instantly, it was like he was transported back to that day. It was the morning of their wedding. Their moms insisted on a picture of them before they left for school. They wanted to start a tradition, taking the kids pictures the morning of picture day. Also, Killian distinctly remember Emma’s mom complaining that school pictures were way too expensive, so they would take their own pictures. Emma’s hair hung the same way it did now. It cascaded over her shoulders, but the color and waves were different. Her blonde hair was more natural back then, the waves a bit more prominent. Her eyes were sparkling; the picture didn’t do them justice. Her hands were wrapped around her lunch box, holding it before her dress. His fingers traced her face, knowing that in a few short months, he would hurt that happy little girl. 

He stole a glance at himself. His bow tie a bit lopsided, but it was cute. His could remember his mom yelling at him to fix it before the pictures. His hair was only slightly wild. His shoes were shiny in the sun that was already casting its morning glow over everything. 

They stood in front of Emma’s house, her big blue door creating the perfect frame for the picture. His arm was wrapped around Emma’s shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Her head tilted in his direction. They both had large grins on their faces; not forced like some kids would do for their parents. Their smiles were genuine and bright. 

He held the picture for a moment longer, savoring the moment of the morning. He was so happy that day. He remembered walking tall after that ceremony. Sure, he was a little kid and it wasn’t a real wedding; but Killian felt on top of the world that afternoon. One kid tried to make fun of him in the hallway when the boys had PE time, but Killian gave him a glance that told the kid to back off. For the first time, but not the last, the look did the job. No one could touch him; not when Emma was by his side. She always made everything right. Even now, even with him sitting on the porch, still a bit heartbroken about everything. Emma showed up, and instantly, everything felt right again. Seeing her made him realize that he was being stupid. Seeing her made him realize that life without Emma Swan was just shit. 

Behind where the picture had laid inside the envelope was a letter. The handwriting drew him in quickly. Unlike Killian’s military, uniformed handwriting, Emma’s was stylish and beautiful. 

_ Dear Killian, _

_ _

_ I know that you are upset with me. I know what I did was pretty unforgivable. But, I need you to know something. What you heard me say - what you walked in on - wasn’t how I really feel.  _

_ I’m not going to lie anymore and say that the thought never crossed my mind. Because, of course it did. How could it not? I’ve been trying to adopt Henry for months, years. Of course I thought about how you could help me. And I know I’m a horrible person for asking you to marry me under false pretenses. But I was worried if I told you the truth, you would run away again. I saw the hesitation in your eyes; so I asked. What I didn’t expect was to fall for you so fast and hard. I’m also not going to lie and say that I didn’t automatically stop thinking that. But, not for the reasons you probably think. I kept thinking them, because it was easier for me to think about that then the real reason I wanted to be with you. I was scared; scared of what you returning meant, scared of my feelings for you, scared of how deep those feelings were so fast. Maybe it was me secretly sabotaging everything, because I’ve never been in a real relationship with someone that mattered. But, you matter. You matter so much.  _

_ The marriage proposal was a mistake. I should have never done that. But, that doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real or that I don’t want to marry you one day.  _

_ I’m sorry for everything, Killian; but I also want you to know that I do care. I care so much about you, about our relationship that I can barely breathe. This week has been hell without you; but it’s also been a wakeup call for me. The reason why none of the relationships I had in the past ever worked out was because of you. You were meant for me; and me for you. We were made for each other; and no one would be able to fill that spot you were made for.  _

_ I read through your letters to me. I read them a few times.  _

_ I’m at a loss for words on what to say about them. I cried, I laughed, I mourned. I was angry at times, happy at others. It was like they made up for all the missing years.  _

_ I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I’m sorry I let our friendship slide.  _

_ However, it brought us both to this place; to this time.  _

_ I wanted to save these words for your ears. I wanted to tell you so bad. That is why Mary Margaret and Ruby were over. I was scared of telling you, because of the thoughts I had about adopting Henry, plus I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same way. I thought you wouldn’t feel the same if you knew I even thought about the fact adopting Henry would be so much easier if I just married you. I was scared that if I told you all of this, that you wouldn’t trust me, or my feelings for you. I never wanted my horrible, selfish thoughts to get in the way of something that I treasure so much. I never wanted them to hurt you.  _

_ I was scared to say this to you. But, reading through your letters helped me to see that there was no need to be scared. You have always been there for me, even if you weren’t here physically. Deep in my heart, I know that you were always there; that if I ever needed you, that the world would intervene and there you’d be, waiting to help at the drop of a hat. Your feelings for me never scared you the way they scared me. But, I am no longer afraid. I know what I want and need in my life, and it’s you.  _

_ I love you, Killian. I always have, I always will. It’s not the type of love that can be scared off by a fight. It isn’t the type of love that comes with strings or conditions. It’s forever. It’s deep. It’s true. I know you may still be mad at me, and I accept that anger; but I still love you. You can hate me for the rest of our lives; but I will still love you. I think I’ve loved you forever, since the day our parents brought us home from the hospital. I’ve always been yours.  _

_ I know it sounds corny now, or crazy, especially after everything we’ve been through, but our old wedding day for me sealed the deal. I am yours for life Killian Jones. I’ve been your wife for almost thirty years, and I intend on being your wife for years to come – if, of course, you’ll have me.  _

_ I know it will take time for you to forgive me. I know it will take time; but I’m willing to take that time if you are, too.  _

_ Henry will be my son no matter what; some adoption paper doesn’t tell us who his parents are. So if what you need from me is a promise that this relationship isn’t because of that, I can promise it. If you need more time apart, I’ll give it to you, even if it’s killing me inside. Because I’ve been selfish in the past, and now there is nothing I wouldn’t do to win you back.  _

_ I love you. And it isn’t because of what you can give me. It’s not because of Henry and our situation. It’s because of you, your soul. It’s because of how you make me feel each and every moment of each and every day.  _

_ I love the way you take care of me and Henry, the way you cook us dinner, even though we are perfectly content on doing takeout every night. I love the way you look at me as we lay in bed together. I love the way your voice changes when you laugh – a good honest laugh, not one just for the sake of laughing. I love the way you’ve come into our lives and turned it on it’s head. I love that Henry loves you. I love that you always know what I need when I’m upset or angry. I love that you make me laugh after a movie that made me cry. I love when you sing along to the car radio. I love it even more when you purposefully sing the song wrong or off key, just to make me smile. I love the smile you get when we thank you for dinner. I love the way your hair falls in your face if you wait too long to cut it. I love the way our bodies fit together, both as we are making love and as we fall asleep. I love the way you look at me, like you’ve never seen anything like me before. I love your hands, and how they hold me when I need them. I love your eyes and how they know absolutely everything about me. I love that you can read me the way no one else can. I love that your hand fits perfectly around mine. I love that you have an adventurous side. I love that you also have a sensitive side.  _

_ I love every single thing about you.  _

_ I hope that you can forgive me for everything. I hope that what we once had can still be found again. I hope that I haven’t chased you away forever.  _

_ I’ll be at our spot tonight, but only till 9 PM. If you show up, I’ll know you want this just as much as I do. If you don’t, well, I understand. I’ll give you your space. But I hope you show up.  _

_ Love always, _

_ _

_ Your Emma.  _

*********

Emma’s POV

Emma’s hands were shaking. They had been since she got in the car and drove to Killian’s house. She was pretty sure that her nerves were caused by the lack of sleep more than the fear of seeing Killian and speaking to him again. She was nervous about that, but more because she didn’t think she could contain herself when she saw him again. She was pretty sure that the tears she had been sprouting all week would pop up again, even though she felt like her tear ducts were dry. She was nervous as to what he would say to her. Would he listen? Would he even answer the door?

When she pulled into the driveway of Liam’s house, there seemed to be an invisible force that was pulling her towards the front door. All of a sudden, right as she turned off the ignition and opened the door, all the fear and doubt left her body. She was here to get Killian back, and nothing was going to get in her way. 

Her hands didn’t stop shaking though. 

She held onto the box of letters tight. While she had penned her own letter to him, letting the truth flow onto the paper, she spent the whole night reading and rereading the letters in her hand. Each time the words passed in front of her, she felt a new emotion with them. She felt closer to Killian reading those letters than she ever felt with him before. She felt his soul and every single emotion. Even though he wasn’t physically there, when she read the letters, it was like he was right next to her. 

She heard yelling from inside the house. The oncoming voice made her grip on the box even tighter. 

Reaching out with a still shaky hand, she rang the doorbell, which opened almost immediately.

A smile crossed her face when she saw just who was yelling behind the door. It was like a light was finally shining down on her. Killian’s presence, even if he was just standing in the doorframe, a slight gap in his lips; made her feel at peace. The nerves were still there, but they weren’t something she wanted to get rid of. They were good nerves, nerves that warned her of something good to come. She blinked a few times, registering every inch of him. 

His black, inky hair was pushed back from his head. His jeans tight and shirt newly cleaned; no wrinkles in the soft fabric. Even though Killian looked good, she could tell he was suffering just as much as she was. There were dark circles under his crystal blue eyes. Evidence of a lack of sleep, which she knew she was the cause of. Seeing him, with a confused and almost upset look in his eyes, was like a sucker punch to the stomach for her. She knew she hurt him, but she never expected it to be this way. For him to look at her as if he didn’t even know her. 

She spoke before things got too awkward. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re pissed at me, and me showing up like this is probably crazy; but I just had to say one thing. I’m sorry. Ok? I’m sorry, Killian; for everything. Liam brought these to me. I read them. I know that probably angers you even more, but Liam told me I could find my answer in this; that I could fix everything with this. There’s something extra in there. Please read it. I’m sorry again,” the words came out in a sprint, not slowing down for anything. 

She thrust the box into his hands, turned, and ran off. 

It wasn’t her plan, but she couldn’t stand there any longer. Not when he looked at her the way he did. It broke her to see him that way, knowing that it was all her fault. She had hoped that he would say something to stop her, something to make her stay. She didn’t plan on being a chicken and running away so soon. He didn’t even chase after her as she got into her bug and headed up the street. He just stood on his porch, in a complete daze. 

The letter she wrote to him was tucked in the back of the box, and she hoped he would read it soon. It told him things she was too scared to admit herself. 

There was something cathartic about writing a letter to the person you love. It was easier for her to get out her emotions on paper than it was for her to physically say the things she was feeling. Yet, she felt wonderful after writing them, knowing that he had the words she hoped he wanted to hear. She loved that he could go back and read them over and over. Maybe, if he didn’t have it in him to forgive her yet, reading her words every day could help.

In the letter, she told him to meet her at their spot. She said she would be there until 9. And she would, she would wait at their spot as long as it took. She wasn’t going to give up on them. What they had was so pure and right that she would be a fool to just throw it away without a fight. If Killian needed space, she would give it to him, if he needed time, she would give it to him. Whatever he needed, she would provide. She just hoped that he was willing to forgive her. 

********

She paced around the tree for the hundredth time. If only she had stayed a moment longer, maybe he would have said something, something that wouldn’t have ended with her circling the tree waiting and praying that he would show up. When she left his house, she still had 6 hours until her deadline was up. She thought about going to get something to eat, or walking around the park until it got closer to the time she said in her letter; but she couldn’t chance missing him, causing him more pain. Instead, she marched around the tree where she first kissed him. 

In the back of her mind, voices were telling her to give up. They said he wasn’t coming, that if he cared about her in the way she cared about him, he would have already been there. They said that she was stupid for laying it all on the line in a letter; that Killian deserved to hear her confession rather than read it. They said that she was too vague and he wouldn’t know what she meant by their spot. Every negative thought was running through her mind and nothing she could do would stop it. There was only one thing in the world at that time that could quench their booming thoughts. 

An hour after she arrived, she thought she spotted him from across the pond. She got up from her spot that she had created underneath the leaves of the willow. Her eyes adjusted so that she could focus on the man across the way. Once they settled on the man, with floppy black hair and a hint of stubble, her heart died. It wasn’t Killian. The man was too short and a tad bit overweight to be him. 

Twice more did she think she spotted him. Each time, her heart raced and a smile came across her face with pure joy. Each time she thought that he was ready to forgive her and things would go back to how they were, only better. But, it was never him. 

As the sun began to set, worry began to set in. While she would do anything to be with Killian, there was a large part of her that hoped and prayed that he would follow her. She hoped he would have read her letter and understand, then jump right in his Jeep and come to her. Maybe he hadn’t read it? Maybe he did and wasn’t ready for what she had to offer?

Emma’s phone rang from within her pocket.

“Hey,” she answered, noting who had appeared on her caller ID. 

“You still waiting for him?” Ruby asked. 

Emma had called Mary Margaret and Ruby that morning to tell them what she was going to do. They told her to wait a while first. They wanted her to make sure she didn’t do something rash. So, she waited until the afternoon rolled around. She decided then that she couldn’t wait any more. But she was glad she waited, as it gave her time to add in the photo she had found of them. 

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to show Ruby,” her voice broke as she said what she didn’t want to believe. 

“Hey, he’ll show. I know he will,” her friend encouraged her. 

“But what if he doesn’t?” she asked.

“He will, there is no point thinking about something that won’t happen,” Ruby countered. 

“Just, what if he read the letter and felt it wasn’t heartfelt? What if he read the letter and didn’t believe me? What if he read the letter and doesn’t care? What if he didn’t read the letter at all? What if…”

“Emma, stop,” Ruby interjected. “You have to stop. You made a mistake, you apologized. You told Killian exactly how you felt, and that’s all you can do.”

“I could have waited there,” she whispered. 

“And what? Forced him to read your letter?” Ruby questioned. 

“Maybe,” she responded.

“You wouldn’t have done that, and you know it. Give him some credit, Emma.” Emma could hear the annoyance in her friend’s voice, but she knew it was only because she wanted Emma to see the good that could happen and not focus so much on the negative. 

“But he just stood there when I was talking; he didn’t say or do anything,” she countered.

“Probably because you took him by surprise. Emma, you know him. You two may have been separated for years, but you know him. And what he did in the past, stopping the communication, was simply because he was too young to deal with what had happened to him. He’s not that same little boy anymore,” Ruby explained.

She was right, too. Emma knew Killian. Even though time and space had kept them apart, she knew him in his heart. Ruby also knew why Emma was worried, even though she hadn’t mentioned it aloud. She was scared that he would run off again, stop all communication. It’s what they knew. Ruby spoke truth again - Killian wasn’t that same little boy. He wasn’t scared anymore of hurting her. He wasn’t going to run. 

“You’re right, Ruby. I’m just so nervous,” Emma said.

“Of course you are. You are going to the dark side, my friend. I already lost Mary Margaret to it, and now I’m losing you. Love is a scary thing, Emma. It’s not all sunshine and daisies, no matter what Mary Margaret says. Love is hard. You are putting your feelings and trust, hell even your own soul, into something that means so much. But, even though it’s scary, it's worth it, Emma. I’ve never been in love, but I see the way it affects you and Mary Margaret. You are both better because of it. Killian makes your life better,” Ruby’s assurance helped her. She had never heard Ruby speak like that before. 

She loved her friend dearly, but love wasn’t something Ruby was about. She used to make fun of Mary Margaret for being in love. But something told Emma that Ruby wanted love so much, that sometimes she had to make fun of it to make it bearable. 

“Thanks, Rube,” Emma sighed.

“No problem. He’ll be there; just give it time. Like I said, you probably shocked him when you showed up. Then, I’m sure you ran away once you said everything you needed to say.” Emma rolled her eyes at how well her friend knew her. “Give him some time. Besides, I’m sure he is just packing up all the rest of his stuff to move into your house.”

Emma let a small giggle out. Ruby had a way of making Emma feel better. She wasn’t a crazy romantic hopeful that Mary Margaret was, but she did the job. 

She had continued to pace around the tree as she talked to Ruby. They talked about nothing of importance, Emma listening on as Ruby discussed her latest adventures with Graham. On the last lap, she didn’t see a figure walking up to her. She was too engrossed with a story Ruby was telling. As she completed her lap, she noticed the figure that approached. 

“You came,” she said to him, yet Ruby was still on the line.

“No. Unfortunately, the douche bag left me hanging,” Ruby quipped back. 

“Not you, Ruby. I gotta go,” Emma said before hanging up on her friend rather quickly.

“You came,” she said again, as Killian stepped closer to her. 

As he came into the light that was slowly making its ways down through the trees, she saw him nod his head. 

There was still a look of heartbreak across his face. Her words she wrote to him didn’t do the justice he deserved. He deserved to hear everything from her directly. While the letter got him here, she was going to have to do the rest. 

She took a deep breath, and walked towards him. She stopped right in front of him, barely an arm’s length away. If she wanted to, she could reach out and pull him closer to her, pressing his body against hers. But, she stayed still. Her eyes met his. She couldn’t read what they were saying. They were bloodshot, like he had been recently crying. They were timid, but held strength. 

They stood there for a minute, just taking in the emotions that surrounded them. Finally, Emma spoke. 

“I’m so sorry. What you heard wasn’t something I was proud of. It was a horrible and selfish thing to even think; and I’ll hate myself forever for hurting you like that. You deserve way better than me. I’m sorry for even letting those thoughts get into my head,” she said, casting her eyes down to his shoes. 

If Killian had a tell, Emma did, too. He scratched behind his ear when nervous, and Emma couldn’t help but find the nearest floor and stare at it. 

She felt a hand on her chin, lifting it up to look back in the face of the man she loved.

“Say it,” Killian asked. 

Emma didn’t need to ask what he meant. She knew. He wanted the words she had written. He wanted the words that belonged to him. He wanted her to say what she truly and deeply felt. 

“I love you. I think I’ve always have. I always will,” she said, her eyes not leaving his. 

She saw the change in his face as she spoke the words. His eyes lightened. Passion returned to the shell of a man he was. He stood taller, prouder. A small smile crossed his lips. Without any hesitation, he pulled her to him, crashing his lips to hers. 

The instant their lips connected, Emma let out a sob. It was the first time that week she had cried because something good happened. The kiss told her what she needed to know, what she was so desperate to know. He felt the same way she did. He was hers and she was his. Their bond was strong and could outlast just about any trial it was sent through. His lips moved against hers, slowly but filled with a promise of more. Tears that streamed down her face met where their lips were moving; the taste of salt sprinkled their kisses. 

Killian pulled back, stopping their kiss. Emma looked up at him through watery eyelashes. He had been crying, too. A lone tear sat on the top of his cheek. Emma reached up and wiped it away, just as his hands came to cup her face. 

“Tell me again,” he pleaded.

“I love you, Killian, I love  _ you _ ,” she emphasized the word, so he knew what she meant. 

“I love you too, Emma,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips again. 

“Come home, please,” she started to beg, a bit a whine came out with the request. 

He just smiled and leaned down for another kiss. 

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Every once in a while, they would stop kissing and just tell each other the words they needed to hear again. But, the real world waited and they needed to get going. Darkness fully surrounded them and Emma’s stomach was beginning to rumble. 

“I’m so sorry again,” she said as they stood up from the seated position they had taken a few minutes after his arrival. 

“I know love, and I thank you for the apology. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have run out like that without getting the full story. But, like you, I have fears that I can’t always control,” he explained.

She nodded, understanding what he meant. 

“I promise that I won’t hide anything from you from now on; no more secrets,” she proposed. 

“Aye, no more secrets,” he winked, taking her hand in his, leading them back up the path towards the parking lot. 

“Should we stop and get something to eat before heading home? I heard your stomach a few times and I’m sure Henry will be starving, too,” he offered.

Emma finally looked down at her watch. It was still early in the evening. They must have not spent as much time near their willow tree as she though. But all the time in the world with Killian would never be enough - not in her books. 

“I am hungry; but Henry isn’t home. I sent him to Avery’s for the weekend,” she said, turning back to look at him as he stopped on the grass near the lot. “I thought we needed to properly make up before he got home.”

She winked and walked to her car. 

“See you at home,” she yelled as she entered her vehicle. She smiled as she saw Killian race to his car to meet her. 

********

“I’m glad you sent Henry away,” Killian groaned as Emma kissed his neck. 

They had rushed back home after their reunion. Emma was thankful too; but not just because the house was quiet. She was so thankful that Killian had shown up. They hadn’t said much, Emma hadn’t fully spoken about what she had said and done; but the way Killian kissed her after she said she loved him told her that she didn’t need to explain anymore. The hurt and pain was old history already. Nothing would stop them now. 

Killian had met her outside her front door. He had sped past her on the road, breaking a few laws as he did. It made Emma smile, even though she would scold him later for putting his life at risk the way he did. However, she got it. She needed him the same way he needed her. 

Her hands moved up and down Killian’s chest. His shirt was so soft that she didn’t want to take it off of him; but she knew what rested beneath the fine cotton, and she couldn’t wait to see him or taste him. She needed him desperately. She needed him to be close to her, to make her know that he was real, that everything was going to be fine. 

His hands gripped her hair, yanking her head back just enough to allow him access to her lips again. He was demanding, more than usual. His lips devoured her, his tongue fierce and frenzied. It was like he couldn’t get enough and was worried that he would never have her again. The need that pooled in her belly was just as strong though. As he took her lips, she jumped up and wrapped herself around him. Her legs pulled her closer against him and her arms held on for dear life. She never wanted to let go. 

His arms moved her from hair down to her ass. His hands squeezed, causing her to release a deep moan. His hands against her felt magical. 

It wasn’t just the missing time that made them come together that way. It was the new understanding of how deep their feelings for each other ran. The love that had blossomed and bloomed took over their senses. Every touch they gave each other, every kiss, was filled with lust and love. The confession made everything brighter, hotter, and more perfect. Sex with Killian had always been good, great even; but now that Emma knew in her heart the feelings they shared, knew that they were meant to be together, things were phenomenal. It was like each look and touch was a cure for everything that had ever been wrong in her life. 

Killian walked them down to the bedroom, never breaking their kiss. Emma’s hands held him, her fingers dragging against his scalp under the strands of hair. She was panting through the kiss, desperately needing air, but not willing to stop. 

As they entered the bedroom, Killian gently sat her down, her feet silently hitting the floor. They were both fully clothed, shoes still on. The second Emma had gotten out of her car and reached the porch, Killian pulled her to him, dominating her. His arms wrapped around her and didn’t let her go. She fumbled to get her keys out and door unlocked. Killian didn’t want to let her lips go, and she didn’t want him too, either, but she knew they needed to get inside. She didn’t need the cops called on her. She was also pretty sure her nosey neighbor Zelena was watching from her front window. 

Killian bent down to start undressing her. He took his time, slowly undoing her boots, pulling them off so slow that Emma could barely handle it. His hands caressed her skin as they came off. Goosebumps began to form on her body with each brush of his fingers. He planted kisses outside her jeans as he made his way up, his hands coming into contact with the button of the tight pants. Her shirt just hit her jeans, leaving a small sliver of skin that Killian ran his tongue against. She moaned in pleasure, her head falling back, her hands gripping his hair. His fingers worked diligently, undoing the button and slowly working the pants off her legs. The brushed against her cheeks and his lips began to kiss down her frame, following the same trail they had taken on the way up. He still had more clothing to attend to, but that didn’t stop him from pausing at her apex on his way up, breathing her in and sending shivers down her spine. The teasing was torture, but one she loved so much. 

She didn’t want him to stop, so she took care of her shirt for him. He smiled a wicked grin and yanked down her panties, quickly assaulting her clit, with his fingers. She let out a gasp, followed by a loud moan as he thoroughly kissed her. He reached around her and brought a leg up and over his shoulder, giving him extra room to play. She didn’t think she would be able to stand; her legs were already weak and wobbly from the pleasure. Her hands gripped his hair tighter. Little squeals of excitement left her lips as he took little nips against her lips. She craved more, needed him more. He was taking his time with her, wanting to get as much as he could, show the love he had for her. At least, that is what she thought he was doing. He was cherishing her, loving her truly. 

As one hand held her steady, he moved the other around to join his tongue. He gave her clit a momentary break, as he moved his lips to her thigh, and his thumb began rubbing small circles against her. She was close, she could feel it. It had been too long since she and Killian had been together, and it was taking everything she had not to fall apart. She needed this to last, to be in Killian’s arms, secure in what they had. What they were doing was repairing their relationship. Making up for all the anger and broken feelings. 

He finally relented, after teasing for her a while longer. His lips stopped their light kisses against her skin and moved back to her hard nub. His thumb disappeared, moving to put two fingers inside of her, moving them with such precision that she was coming before she had the chance to say what she was feeling. 

“Fuck, oh fuck! Yes! Yes!” she cried.

She fell apart, her walls clenching his hands as he steadied her, planting slow kisses to her thighs and his fingers stilled. He let her come down from her high, but never let her stop feeling his presence. When her walls stopped their pulsing, he removed his fingers and stood up, taking her mouth again. 

It wasn’t long before she needed him again, before the urge to push him down on the bed and take what she needed almost overcame her. Maybe it was the feeling of his shirt against her hard nipples that were pressing against her sheer lace bra. Maybe it was the way his hands were gliding against her back, just above her ass, just enough to send her crazy. It didn’t really matter what was giving her the impulse, because she acted on it. 

Turning them so she was facing the bed, she pushed him down forcefully. Her arms came up to take off her bra in a fluid motion. 

“Undress,” she commanded.

“As you wish,” he smirked. 

He worked quickly to remove the pants and shirt he had on. Emma stood naked before him, patience waning. She loved the site of him undressing, getting to watch each and every movement his body made, fully focus on him; but she was ready to get to the fun stuff. 

Finally, he was ready for her. He laid down on the bed, bringing his hand up, motioning for her to come to him. She walked to him, well, she more ran to him. Her heartbeat was already running a marathon. The second her hands found Killian’s body, she calmed. Feeling him touch her, his hands coming to sit on her hips. Her legs were splayed over his, thighs clinching together, not quite inviting him in yet. She was ready, but wanted to pause a moment to take in the wonder that was now beneath her. 

His eyes were captivated by her. They bore into her, wanting to know every little thing she had to offer. His hands roamed over her lower body; hers moved across his chest, playing with the chest hair that she had come to love. She preferred his chest hair running through her fingers over the hair on his head. It was coarser, rougher, but covered what she was really after - his heart. 

She looked down at him, their eyes meeting. 

“I love you,” she whispered, not needing loud voices to get across her point. 

Her whisper held everything they needed to know. It didn’t need to be screamed from the top of her lungs, even though she would if she had the opportunity. What they had was pure and special. It was something that had grown over the years and made stronger from the troubles they had been through. She appreciated him more now than ever. He forgave her for her selfish antics and she understood his emotions and trauma of the past. Looking down at him, feeling him twitch underneath her legs, she knew they were perfect for each other; no one would ever make her, and her heart, feel this way. 

“I know,” he winked. She understood exactly. She didn’t need the words back, the  _ I know _ was exactly what she needed. She needed to know that he understood her love and what it meant. She needed him to know that her love came without strings, without conditions, without force. 

She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. She started off sweet and kind; but he quickly changed the feel of the kiss. He was slow and in control earlier; but now, he was ready for her, needed her. There was no time to waste now. 

Her hand reached down to grasp his length. He growled as she moved her hand up and down, just once, before placing him at her entrance. She lifted ever so slightly. 

As she sank down on him, their passionate kisses stopped, each one of them moaning in unison. It had been too long since they had done this. She missed the way he felt inside of her, the fullness she felt. She sat on him for a moment, letting herself readjust to him. He felt different. She felt him pulse within her, begging her to move. 

She pulled away from him, sitting straight up. Her hands came down to rest on his chest, fingernails scratching ever so slightly. She raised herself up, slowly riding him. His hands returned to her hips, his nails matching hers, digging into her skin. 

Her movements started slow, wanting to tease him just a bit, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But, she couldn’t contain herself. He felt so good, so large inside of her. She needed to get him deeper, harder. She was unable to keep her straight upright position, but instead of bending forward, she pushed herself back against his legs, knees jutting closer to his chest, her hands moving to clutch his calves. It was during times like this that she was glad she was flexible by nature. The angle at which she moved created a deeper attack. Yet she missed the feeling of his pubic hair against her clit. 

Without asking, knowing exactly what she wanted, Killian moved one of his hands to meet her nub. His palm splayed against her thigh, allowing his thumb the perfect access to her clit. He matched her rhythm, not rubbing too fast or hard, put with enough pressure to get her close to the edge again. 

Right to the edge.

Before she could fall, he pulled away, his hand resting fully against her thigh. 

“Not yet,” he said, as Emma whined at the missing pressure. 

She sped up her pace, thrusting back against him harder than she was before. She didn’t want to stop. She needed him.

“Please, Killian,” she begged, the fullness of her belly getting too much to deal with. 

“Soon,” he promised, a moan escaping with his word. She knew he was going to be nearing his edge soon. His lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes closed, head thrown back slightly. He was doing what she had tried to do early - delay what they both really wanted. 

She wasn’t able to wait any longer. They had the rest of their lives to take their time, to savor each and every moment. Right now, they needed to come together, in more ways than one. 

She leaned forward, righting herself against him, moaning when his hair met her clit. She pushed down harder on him, bringing him in as deep as she could take him. Instead of rising up though, she leaned forward. Her lips came to his ear. She pulled the lobe in and bit as she rocked against him. His hands came flying up to her ass, nails digging into her skin. She heard him let go the breath he had been holding; trying to hold back his release. He was closer now, and so was she. The deepness of his cock, plus the movement of his hair was sending her in a frenzy. She was also crazy turned on by the fact she was causing Killian to curse loudly every few seconds with the movement of her lips and teeth. 

“Fuck, Emma,” he yelled, pushing himself up. 

Her mouth stayed at his ear, but there were both sitting up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his back. Her hands scratched down his back. She was sure she would leave marks that would drive her crazy the next morning. She loved marking him, a constant reminder that he was hers. She also loved when he marked her. The first night they spent together, he had left small hickeys against her skin. 

One of his hands snaked between them. She knew he was going to rub her to her release. 

His thumb met her clit again, and she grinded against him. She couldn’t move up or down, thanks to Killian’s strong arms wrapped around her, but she could circle her hips. He circled his against hers. His thumb worked her, as she kept up the nibbling at his ear. She knew it was driving him wild, because each time she took a nip, he would push his thumb hard against her hard nub. 

Emma was close, her whimpers between sucks getting louder and longer. 

“I’m close Killian, I’m going to come,” she mewed into his ear. 

He removed his thumb, but within the second, two fingers danced across her clit, sending her over the edge. She sank deep against him, her legs closing around him, pulling him in deeper than she thought she could take him. Within seconds, he followed, spilling himself into her. Their bodies shook against one another, his fingers still playing with her and her lips still at his ear. 

“I love you,” she whispered again, as she came down from her high.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, rearranging them so they were spooned against each other, under the covers of her bed. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” she said, and she told herself it would for the final time. She was going to leave it all in the past and she hoped he would too. 

“As am I, love, but I forgive you. It’s all in the past now. All that matters is our future,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss against her back. 

She breathed him in. She loved the mixture of musk and sweat that Killian had after sex. It was her favorite scent. 

He was right. He forgave her because he loved her. It was as simple as that. Their love was stronger than anything that life could put in their way. It withstood the test of time and distance; so of course, it could withstand this test. 

“Tell me again,” his whispered right as she was beginning to fall asleep on his arm.

“I love you,” she smiled against him, sleep over taking her, as she finally felt at peace. 

**********

Two Months Later.

Killian’s POV

Things since the night Emma had shown up at Killian’s door had been perfect, if you asked him to tell the truth. Each moment he spent with Emma, his love for her grew deeper. He learned new things about her each day, and they were more open with each other than ever. While he wasn’t planning on asking her about what had happened when he had walked in on her and friends, he couldn’t help himself. He loved her letter, but he wanted to hear it straight from her. 

It took him a month to get the courage to ask her, not wanting to break the bubble they had created, but he was glad he did. They were lying in bed after another long passionate session of love making, thanks to Henry having a date, when he asked her to tell him about it. Tears sprinkled her eyes as she relayed the entire story. She started from the moment he messaged her, and ended with her showing up at his house, the box of letters in her hands. 

After hearing her speak about it, he better understood why she had done what she did. There was no more anger in his body, at least when it came to that situation. They had become closer because of it. His letters had come to the present because of it. 

The letters didn’t stop there. Every few days, he would find a letter from Emma somewhere he didn’t think he would find one. One day she put it in his empty coffee mug that was waiting for him next to the coffee pot. Another day it was in his car, waiting on his seat. Another day, it was under his shaving kit. Henry even got in on it, helping Emma stash her letters around the house. 

He wrote to her too, at least once a week, he would sit down and pen her a letter from the heart. He would tell her how much he loved her and how much she changed his life. Hers echoed him, with words of love and a promise of a life together. 

They had discussed what their new life meant the morning after their reunion. He had admitted to her that he still wanted to marry her. Emma had other ideas. Similar to the bet he gave her at the beginning of the month, she had given him one. She bet he couldn’t go six months without marrying her. If he did, they would have a giant wedding, one that showed the amount of love they had for each other. He bet her back that she wouldn’t be able to last either. He bet a wonderful honeymoon to Ireland, to show Emma everything that shaped his childhood. But only if they could make it to six months. 

Henry caught them a couple of times talking about eloping, and it had only been two months. 

He didn’t think he would be able to last; but there was one surprise he knew he would need to wait for. 

Henry had asked Killian shortly after he moved back in if he was planning on adopting him. It took Killian by surprise that Henry would be so open about it. Before he could answer, Henry started talking again and told him that he wanted him to. He wanted Emma to be his real mom and for Killian to be his real dad. The next afternoon he went to the adoption agency and spoke with Regina about starting the process. He knew Emma still wanted to adopt Henry; but he also knew that she was hesitant about following through - worrying that he may get upset again, old memories returning to the surface. He knew he couldn’t hide it from her; but maybe if he went and got the information, then she would be more willing to really get the ball rolling again. He thought about waiting till the wedding and showing her the papers - with his name included. All he wanted was to make Emma happy, and he knew Henry was the key to perfect happiness. 

So, he couldn’t rush it. He couldn’t let her talk him into eloping. 

Each night, they curled up together, her head resting beneath his, against his chest. Her legs thrown over his, her arm resting beneath her head. Each night, they spoke in hushed tones to each other. Each night, they went to bed the same way they did their first night back together. 

“Tell me,” he whispered to her, planting a kiss against her head. 

“I love you,” she always responded.

Looking back at their short time together, he couldn’t help but think about the old saying.  _ Wise men say, only fools rush in _ . But the song was right. He couldn’t help falling in love with Emma; and she couldn’t help falling in love with him. 


End file.
